


The Deleted Scenes of Lilac Sweet

by Star_Gazing_Knight



Series: Lavender Blue [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Flirting, Deleted Scenes, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Jewelry, Hand Feeding, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Referenced/Mentioned Drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 06:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14182962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Gazing_Knight/pseuds/Star_Gazing_Knight
Summary: Chapters and Scenes from Lilac Sweet that either no longer longer fit into the plot/narrative or are from other Character's POVs.





	1. Lotor: Chapter 1 (Introduction)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: These chapters are not beta'd and sometimes barely proofread, if proofread at all. Some of these chapters may be exactly the same as the Posted Chapter except for a few differences of conversations and minor event changes.

Lotor is bored. Which is ridiculous because he the Prince of the Galra Empire, which spans most of the known universe, making him the Prince of the Known Universe. Therefore, there shouldn’t be any reason for Lotor to be bored.

He knows his father is off ruling the Known Universe and dealing with Voltron. Which is another reason he shouldn’t be bored since the reappearance of Voltron has bolstered the moral and stupidity of various rebellious ‘resistances’ which in turn makes it easier to catch them, making Lotor’s job easier all around. So technically he has more work than usual to do, but it’s such easy work now.

Before the reappearance of Voltron, he had to put in so much effort to track down the various resistances and rebellions. Sure, there were some that he could never seem to locate like the so called fabled ‘Blades’ or ‘Daggers’ or whatever they were called or the various hidden colonies that nurtured anti-Galra sentiment to all creatures they came across. However, most of his fun came from the work he had to put into tracking down those rebellions.

There was just something pleasing about pretending to be someone friend and ally and be welcomed into their rebellious circle only to reveal himself as Prince Lotor and tear them to pieces.

With the appearance of Voltron, however, everything had just become so dull and boring. It didn’t help that he poured over reports and sightings of Voltron, and listened to the various recordings of their conversations that had been held on General Communication Lines.

He’d tsked when he saw that sloppy work, and almost wondered how his father hadn’t caught them yet. He dreamed about being the one to locate and take them down. His father would be so pleased with him, and he would finally get the respect that a son of Galra, and the Prince of their Empire deserved.

He flicks through some new footage of the Paladins at work, adding to his increasing list of notes and findings for each Paladin.

If he were to go about taking down Voltron the same way he would any other resistance, he’d have to find the weak link. The person he could get to trust him the most; to get his foot in the door.

First, he pulls up footage of the Black Paladin. The Black Paladin, who stole the mantle from his father, is too valued and respected as a Leader. Not to mention as the Champion, he has seen Lotor before. There is no opening there that Lotor can exploit. Which is a shame because while the Black Paladin is not the prettiest of the group, he is attractive and has the strength and determination that so many Galra admire. So, he turns his attention to the Green Paladin; which with some work, could be his way in.

He pulls a picture of the Green Paladin and considers them once more. They – he’s not sure if they are male or female, and the team doesn’t seem sure either since they’d refered to ‘Pidge’ as male in the beginning, but have transitioned more to either neutral terms or feminine ones – seem to be very determined. From his understanding, their family is lost somewhere in space, possibly in Galra hands.

The closest he can find when he looked for them is the humans who were found with the Champion in the beginning, but it appears the youngest has escaped Galra hold. He still has the trump card of the older male, but he isn’t sure that’s enough leverage to use against the Green Paladin. Besides which, he’d rather keep that in his back pocket in case other plans fall through.

He’d have to use blackmail on the Green Paladin. They are too determined and loyal to ever turn their back on their friends, unless something the Green Paladin held more dearly was at stake, such as family. Even then, he’d be using a double-edged sword, as he didn’t doubt that the Green Paladin would hesitate to strike him down if they thought they could save both their team and their family.

Speaking of a double-edged sword, there was the Red Paladin, who seemed to favor that weapon. He doesn’t even bother pulling up any footage or photos of the Red Paladin. He’s studied him already quite a bit since he’d been drawn to him at first. Lotor was impressed by the Red Paladin’s habit of acting first and thinking later. He’d heard even his father had found admirable traits to the Galra in the Red Paladin. Not to mention how angry the Red Paladin seemed almost all the time.

If Lotor could use that anger to his advantage, he definitely would. However, the Red Paladin’s temper was dulled by the sensibility of the Black Paladin, and then redirected with careful goading and taunting from the Blue Paladin.

Speaking of the Blue Paladin; Lotor had already ruled the Blue Paladin out as a possible entrance to Voltron. Lotor pulled up a picture of the Blue Paladin, frowning when he had to crop out another Paladin in almost every picture.

Given how obnoxious the Blue Paladin could sound according to the General Communications, one would assume that the team wouldn’t like him. Lotor has assumed that at first, but upon careful review, which hadn’t been fueled by a desire to watch the Blue Paladin, he could see that that wasn’t the case.

Lotor could hear the fondness in the team’s voices when they scolded him. Affection was expressed in every movement and roll of their eyes. In battle it tended to manifest in how the team would protect the Blue Paladin. Although that may have been because the Blue Paladin was similar to the Green Paladin in the aspect that their battle prowess wasn’t the best.

No, where the Blue Paladin excelled was in redirection. The Blue Paladin had a way of redirecting the other Paladins and putting them to best use. Whether that redirection was taunting the Red Paladin into attacking something; or encouraging the Green Paladin to check something out; or poking and prodding the Yellow Paladin into doing something he didn’t want to do but needed to do for the team.

Lotor wished that the Blue Paladin was a way in. He was Lotor’s second personal choice after the Black Paladin. Lotor had always been attracted to pretty things, and the Blue Paladin was the prettiest of the team. Although it was so sad that both of Lotor’s preferred choices were the two least likely Paladins to give him the entrance into Voltron that he needed to tear the team apart.

That left the one Paladin that Lotor had identified as the way in: the Yellow Paladin. Lotor sighed as he pulled up an image of the Yellow Paladin up, although he made sure to pull up a picture where he could rest his eyes upon the added presence of either the Blue Paladin (preferred) or the Black Paladin.

The Yellow Paladin seemed to be a pacifist at heart, and didn’t seem to want to be involved in the war. Most importantly, he almost always had to be pushed into acting, even for the best interests of the team. If he offered the Yellow Paladin a way out, he was almost certain he’d take it. He may be concerned about his friends, but, honestly? Without the Blue or Black Paladin pushing him along, Lotor doubted the Yellow Paladin would get anything done.

The poor thing probably had a complex. Lotor had heard him get sick enough times over the General Communications, which was always a _delight_ to hear.

~

Lotor cannot believe his luck. First, he receives the incredibly unhappy news of his father’s defeat at the hands of Voltron. Then the witch, Haggar, dares to presume that she can _summon_ him. As if she has more Power than he does in his own Empire.

But, as he looks down at the Blue Lion, which just barely had missed his ship before colliding with one of the moons of the planet he was stationed at, Lotor can believe that maybe, just maybe, his luck may be changing.

He’d already marked the Blue Paladin off his list as possible entries, but how could he possibly give up a chance to actually see one of the members of the team that managed to injure his father so severely that they had to place him in a healing coma? The fact that it was the Blue Paladin was just added bonus. He could see if the paladin was as attractive for his race as the pictures indicated that he was.

He has a small ship that he uses specifically for this purpose. It’s set up like an old trader’s ship, and he has the clothes to match. He directs his battleship to be stationed on the other side of the planet, to stay out sight of the Blue Lion, while he goes down to ‘check on the crash’ himself in his clunky trader ship.

The Blue Paladin is outside of the lion when he lands nearby. The Paladin looks up when Lotor lands, and Lotor decides that he hates the Paladin’s helmet. Even without the helmet, he can tell that the Paladin is a decent height. He feels like he can feel the Paladin’s gaze on him as he exits the ship. It’s heavy and judging, and all Lotor can think is that he was right: the Blue Paladin would not be his way in.

“Can I help you?” His translator catches the words that spill out from the Paladin, and it takes a tick for the words to translate properly.

Lotor studies the Paladin, noting his body language and how he’s holding himself. There’s a hand on his hip, and his other hand is dangling down, brushing against the energy compartment on the suit that Lotor knows they can pull their Bayards from. He notices how tense the Paladin seems, and registers that there was strain in the Paladin’s voice, although it’d been muffled by his helmet and was partially lost in translation.

He’d always assumed that the Paladins had translators, especially given how much they went to other planets and spoke with natives. While it was commonplace in the Empire for people to have translators implanted while young, he didn’t recognize the species of the Paladins and he realizes that he may have been wrong to assume that they have translators. They must have been relying on the translators of the other species.

Interesting.

He gives a smile, despite the fact that the Paladin probably can’t see it due to the helmet. Hopefully the Paladin will hear it when Lotor speaks. “I feel it is I who should be asking you that.” He laughs. “I saw the crash from the Planet,” He points towards where the planet is, and he can almost feel the gaze of the Paladin leave him to glance up at the planet looming above them. This is helped by the tiniest movement of the helmet as it tilted upwards. Times passes, and the imagined gaze settles back on Lotor. “And thought I’d check to see if you needed assistance.”

The Blue Paladin taps his fingers against the energy compartment, and Lotor thinks that somehow the Paladin has seen through him. What weapon does the Blue Paladin use? A blaster, right? He can dodge that. He’s seen the Blue Paladin in battles, he’s better at long range than close range. The Paladin’s hand to hand is atrocious.

Lotor takes a step back as the Paladin moves. The Paladin shifts, readjusting his stance as he crosses his arms. The Blue Paladin crosses his arms. Lotor’s luck must be changing. It’s still a defensive position, but it doesn’t say that the Paladin is a tick away from pulling out his weapon. Lotor takes a breath and relaxes.

“I appreciate it, but I think I’m good.” That stressed tone is still there. The Blue Paladin is clearly not comfortable with his presence, and yet, Lotor decides to press his luck.

“I get it, I get it.” Lotor holds his hands up in a universal way of a form of surrender. “You don’t want anyone messing with your…” He pauses, and looks the Blue Lion over. “…ship.” He finishes, as if he’s not sure what the Blue Lion is, like he hadn’t grown up hearing all about the Black Lion and the exploits of Voltron while it was under his father’s rule.

The Blue Paladin shifts his weight, his arms remaining crossed. There’s a few ticks of awkward silence. The Blue Paladin looks away towards the Lion. Lotor takes this time to study the Paladin again. His gaze rakes over the lithe body, mentally comparing him to the frames of Galra.

No. There is nothing Galra about this species of Alien. He looks more Altean than Galra, and even then, Lotor knows he’s not Altean. The few pictures of him without a helmet prove as much with the missing eye scales and lack of pointed ears.

“I just want to help. This universe is hazardous enough now a days, so I can understand your caution.” There’s a jerk in the helmet of the Blue Paladin that Lotor recognizes is him looking at Lotor for a tick before looking back at the Lion.

The Paladin’s arms uncross, and he moves, the fingertips stroking against the blue metal of the Lion. The Paladin’s shoulders slump downwards as the gaze returns to Lotor. The gaze doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. Or it does, but it’s a different sort of weight.

The Paladin lets out a laugh, and steps forward towards Lotor. “I can understand wanting to help.” The movements of the Paladin aren’t as stiff now. They’re move fluid, and the strain Lotor had detected earlier is still present, but increasingly less so.

“The names, Lance… and if you’re offering assistance, I wouldn’t mind some water or a couple tools.” Lotor cannot believe his luck. Against all odds, the Blue Paladin hasn’t pushed him away.

He takes a step back and gestures to his clunky trader ship. “Welcome aboard.” He offers. There’s a few ticks of hesitation, where the Paladin looks back at the Lion, and then the Paladin steps onto the ship.

Lotor glances at the Lion one more time before following the Paladin onto his ship. He removes his own helmet once inside, tucking it off to the side before pulling out his hair from where it was tucked away. He turns to see the Blue Pala—no, Lance’s gaze on him. The hand is back near the energy compartment.

“You’re Galra?” Lotor can see his eyes now, and like his voice, they are guarded.

Thankfully, Lotor has a legitimate answer for this; one that in Lotor’s experience doesn’t always cause people to trust him, but at least explains some things. Lotor gives him a tight smile. “Half, actually.” Lotor corrects. He still expects the… Lance to distrust him, but Lance seems to love to prove him wrong.

Lance’s posture relaxes again, and he bears his teeth in a way that Lotor has seen him do to his teammates. “That must be rough.” His voice is softer too, like the look in his eyes and the curve of Lance’s shoulders.

This was not expected. Not in any way, shape or form. For as much distrust and suspicion that Lotor had been shown, he’s thrown out of loop by this easy acceptance. He stares at Lance for a tick or two, before remembering Lance’s request for water, and turns to get some.

When he turns back around, Lance is still looking at him. There’s emotions that Lotor can’t place in his eyes, and he wonders how the videos never picked up how expressive the Blue Paladin was. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as obnoxious as the videos and voice chats would indicate.

He’d have to rethink some of his stances on the Blue Pal—Lance. He’d have to rethink some of his stances on Lance. It feels odd to think of Lance as Lance and not the Blue Paladin.

Lotor gestures to a spot he uses as a table where Lance can sit. Lance does so. “Most don’t seem to care whether I’m half or full.” Lotor starts cautiously as he hands Lance the water. Before Lotor can continue, Lance is shaking his head and interrupting.

“They’re stupid. It doesn’t matter where you come from, what matters is who you are and what you do.” He says this such conviction that Lotor is thrown off track, again. The translator seems to have difficulty with Lance’s tone again, but Lotor ignores that.

“It’s sounds like you speak from experience.” He wasn’t expecting Lance’s expression to… crumple. There is literally no other work he can think to describe the way Lance just falls. Everything from the way his shoulders slump, to the frown pressing at the corners of his mouth and the way his eyes lower. His eyebrows are scrunching together just so slightly, and his drip around the cup tightens for a tick. Lance’s entire body just seems to fall.

A tick passes, and then Lance takes a breath and shifts his expression again. Lotor is intiquied by all this rapid changes. “Not personally.” Lance’s voice betrays his lie with the waver of the tone. “But one of my teammates is part Galra, and I refuse to judge anyone on that.”

Lotor’s brain comes to a screeching halt. One of the Voltron team is Galra? When!? How!? Who?! He mentally flicks through the images of the team. Is Lance referring to the Champion? His arm may be Galra made, but a Galra that does not make him.

The answer comes before he can even begin to dismiss the former Champion. The Red Paladin. He fights like a Galra. Even his father had noticed the Galra traits in him. A key. This was a key. If he can get into Voltron, then he can use this partial Galra to get into something more elusive. For Lotor has no doubts that there is a connection somewhere in here connecting the Red Paladin to the fabled Blades or Daggers or whatever they called themselves.

Lotor smiles. “That must be difficult for him. He’s lucky to have a friend like you.” There’s a flicker of emotion in Lance’s eyes, and he crumples again. This time he reconstructs himself so quickly that Lotor almost doubts he saw anything.

But he did.

Lance didn’t consider the Red Paladin a friend? Or, perhaps he did, but he didn’t think that the Red Paladin considered Lance a friend? Oh, all the possibilities. The fun Lotor could have here. He feels almost giddy with anticipation.

Was Lance proving him wrong in another assumption? Was Lotor wrong? Was _Lance_ his way into Voltron? He hadn’t thought it possible. All his studying had told them that Lance was a dead end, yet here they are: sitting at Lotor’s table, with Lance inadvertently informing his enemy about new information.

The Red Paladin was at least partially Galra, and Lance wasn’t sure of their relationship as far as if they were friends or not. Lotor wants to pry, but he can recognize a closing door when he sees one. If he presses, Lance will clam up and everything will be lost.

Lance is the type that needs to be coaxed. Which for any other Galra would be a difficult task to accomplish. However, he is Lotor, son of Zarkon and partially Altean. He can work with emotions better than a standard Galra.

Lotor smiles, and ignores Lance’s silence. “So, you said you’d be interested in tools?” Lotor’s takes a chance, and reaches out. His brushes his hand against Lance’s shoulder before resting it there.

From what he’s seen of Lance so far, he’s very expressive with his emotions. Everything screams how the other feels. So, he can estimate that Lance’s race may be very tactile too. Nothing has proven this in the footage he’s seen, but then again, nothing told him that Lance was this expressive. It’s fascinating, in its own way, and some part of him truly wants to study how expressive Lance could be. It’s hard to keep the grin off his face when he imagines Lance’s anguish when Lotor digs a sword through him. He’ll have to kill Lance from the front. He wants to see Lance’s emotions as his Quintessence leaves him.

Lance doesn’t move away from Lotor’s hand. Instead he looks up at him and there’s relief shining through those impossibly bright blue eyes, although if it’s from the contact or Lotor’s change in conversation is unknown. The corners of Lance’s lips quirk upwards and the skin at the corner of Lance’s eyes wrinkles. Its oddly cute.

Lotor’s lips copy the action, although for entirely different reasons than Lance. This will be easier than he first anticipated, and he can’t wait for the fun to begin. “By the way, I believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Tyrac.”


	2. Allura: Alternative Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter Piece which was originally going to be the beginning of Chapter 28. At the time, I didn't feel that there was enough for this snippet and thus it was cut and replaced with the Keith Bonus Chapter.

Allura crossed her arms, trying her best to appear as if she was looking down at the Blue Lion instead of up at it. She pursed her lips, letting out a huff from her nose as she continued to stare down the lion.

The lion remained nonplused, not caring one bit about the Altean Princess glaring at her. After a while of no response, Allura started drumming her fingers against her upper arms.

While her quintessence was tied to the Castle, and by extension the lions, it didn’t mean Allura could just magically make them do anything.

Actually, despite popular belief among the paladins, she couldn’t even really communicate with the lions beyond basic necessities; such as calling them back to the castle, sometimes knowing their locations, or occasionally being able to tell who their paladins were.

As such, there wasn’t much she could do in regards to their current situation. If they were missing Lions, then that’d be a different story.

“Princess,” Coran started, walking towards her.

“I know, Coran.” She sighed, turning towards her advisor. “I just don’t know what to do.”

Allura shook her head sadly. “The Blue Lion will accept you as a pilot so long as it’s a desperate situation, but we need Voltron.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “It’s already bad that we’re down one Paladin, I didn’t anticipate being down two.”

She looked back over her shoulder at the dull lifeless eyes of the Blue Lion. “What do we do, Coran?” She asked.

Coran was silent, presumably looking up at the Blue Lion himself.

Despite piloting her several times now, Allura was sure he didn’t feel any welcoming presence from the lion itself. She had not either, since they had recovered the Blue Lion without… without Blue’s Paladin.

“I am not her chosen Paladin, Princess.” She looked back at Coran, inclining her head. She was painfully well aware of that fact. “The Blue Lion still feels her Paladin is Lance.” He paused, and Allura saw his eyes flicker to the lion and the twitch of his mustache indicating a frown. “There are few ways to break that bond, and none that I can think of that the other Paladins would agree to.”

“So then what do we do, Coran?” 


	3. Lance: Alternative Chapter 40: Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an Alternative Version of Chapter 40. This served as the building block for the Finished Chapter, so there may be a lot of Paragraphs that are either incredibly similar or the same. 
> 
> A lot of the finished version's warnings apply here. To Recap: 
> 
> _**Trigger Warning(s):** Bad Flirting. Emotional Manipulation. BAD TOUCH. Hand Feeding. Referenced/Mentioned Drugs, Referenced/Mentioned Inappropriate Acts. Some (sorta) Explicit Content. Hand Feeding. Finger Licking. Dubious Consent._
> 
> _I can not stress the warnings on this chapter enough. There is questionable content in this chapter. Nothing too extreme._

A few days passed quicker than Lance would have liked. Nothing else had really happened between Lance and Lotor, but that didn’t mean that Lance’s heart wasn’t beating erratically in his chest at the idea of this date.

Lotor seemed to sense Lance’s nerves, as he reached out and took Lance’s hand, holding it as they entered the planet’s atmosphere. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Lance’s hand for a moment before lifting it and kissing Lance’s knuckles gently.

The only good news had been that Lance had finally figured out how to turn on and off his newest ability.

Like he’d predicted, Xana had been stunned that Lance had picked it up so quickly. But what really excited Lance was the fact that he wouldn’t be getting as many headaches from it randomly turning on anymore.

So at least he didn’t have to worry about that while on this date.

“Why are you so nervous, pet?” Lotor asked.

“It’s been a while since I was planet side.” Lance replied, although it wasn’t the whole truth. He was nervous about what Lotor was going to show him. He was nervous about the trip in general. He was nervous about the date.

After one date, he’d kissed Lotor. What would happen after two dates? What if he started liking Lotor more than he already did? How much further would Lotor force Lance to stretch his ethics?

How much more delaying would Lotor allow? He hadn’t asked for anything after the kiss. He hadn’t demanded more kisses, or tried anything. For all intents and purposes, Lotor had been a perfect gentleman.

It unnerved Lance because Lotor was impatient.

Lotor was impulsive. He wasn’t really the type to sit back and let Lance come to him. Except, he was. He was letting Lance set the pace, and it just seemed too good to be true.

“It’ll be good for you.” Lotor tried to assure Lance. “If you loved the Garden, then you’ll love this.”

Lance nodded, and with his free hand, reached up to play with the necklace.

He hadn’t really had a necklace since the Garrison to play with, and despite knowing what jewel was on this one, he couldn’t help himself but to play with it. It was something to fidget with and to help preoccupy his mind. He’d rather play with it than bite his lip.

“Where is this?” Lance asked after a moment.

“This planet is Botë. We’ll be going to the capital city of Hënë.” Lotor informed him. “They’ve been under Galra rule for about fifty deca-phoeb now.”

Lance didn’t really have a response, and so Lotor continued even as the shuttle started to land.

“They’re a main source of the erëz plant, which is a commonly used spice across the universe. It grows so well here thanks to the underground magma pools in the area.” Lotor paused. “They’re fond of spices and herbs, so if at any point you feel overwhelmed let me know. They’re particularly fond of burning _Farë e keqe_ for the scent, and I’ve heard that it can be a bit much the first time.”

Lance nodded, like he understood what exactly Lotor was saying, let alone how to pronounce some of those words. Although, it was sweet of Lotor to be concerned about Lance being overwhelmed by the scent of what sounded like incense.

Finally, the shuttle fully landed, and the doors opened. Lotor stood, exiting after the guards with Lance close behind him.

The planet itself was very interesting. It looked like a jungle which had been dried up, and when Lance’s foot touched the ground, a plume of rose colored dust rose into the air. Dry vines and plants were scattered all over the place, making a network grid across the ground.

If those were the spice plants, then they looked pretty dead right now. Then again, Lance wasn’t a biologist, or a plant doctor, or whatever that profession was.

The sky was a pale light blue, a close reminder to Lance of home, although on the horizon there looked to be some clouds.

“What is this place?” Lance asked, spinning around.

A couple of the natives here stopped what they were doing, pointing at Lotor and Lance before looking away. Lotor stopped not far from the well in the middle of the city, and rested his hand on his hip as he spoke quietly with someone who Lance assumed was the leader.

The people of this city appeared to be humanoid, which was reassuring. They were thin and willowy, ducking in and out of their cloth doors with flexible ease.

The City itself was pretty cool looking too. Half of the buildings appeared to be made out of old stone ruins, on which Lance spotted some symbols that reminded him of the glowing drawings he’d seen when he found Blue.

The other half of the buildings appeared to have been made of dried husks of trees. Cloth hung in doorways, and when people exited, clouds of dark pink, almost red, colored smoke escaped. The whole city smelled cloyingly sweet like candy.

In the middle of the village was the only bit of true greenery. There was a patch of vines that were still alive, intertwined around the well. They extended out for about 10 feet in any direction from the well, before their vines started to slowly die off. Lotor was stopped right before the area where they turned green.

“This is where the Red Lion was found.” Lotor replied once he dismissed the leader, and had watched Lance for a moment. Lance stopped, and looked at Lotor. He furrowed his eyebrows, and frowned slightly.

“You took me to where Red was found?” Lance asked. Lotor nodded. “Why?” He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t care about Red, or any of the other Voltron Lions – except Blue. “I don’t want to be here.”

Lance spun around, intending to go back to the ship, but Lotor caught his arm and turned him back around. “I didn’t take you here for that.” He nodded to the well. “That’s the _Lule e shiut_ Flower. It only blooms once a deca-phoeb, on the same quintant.”

Lance blinked, staring at the vines. He turned spun back around to give Lotor a look™. “You took me here for a flower?” His tone was very flat.

Gardens were one thing. They were greenery and something pretty in the vastness and boringness of Space. A single flower in the place where the Galra had found Red was considerably less impressive.

“Not just any flower.” Lotor replied. “Its blossoms have a chemical effect on all these plants.” He waved his hand at all the dead vines and trees. “They come back to life for three fourths of the deca-phoeb before slowly dying back off to this point, upon which the flowers rebloom and restore life again.”

Lance hummed, looking at the vines. Okay, so, that sounded marginally better.

“That sounds cool.” He muttered after a moment.

Lotor grinned, he shifted and waved his hand to a where a large tree stood by the well. The leader from before was there, standing by one of the cloth doors.

“The Leader would be honored if we stayed to watch the blooming of the _Lule e shiut_.” Lance bit his lip and then nodded. “Thank you.” Lotor smiled, and then guided Lance over to the tree. “While we wait, we can try some of the local’s dishes. I assure you that they’re all delicious.”

Lotor’s hold on Lance shifted to holding his hand as he guided Lance to the tree. The leader saw them coming, and held open the cloth, letting clouds of color escape into the air. Lance’s nose twitched at the scent.

“I’ve noticed you care for sweeter fruits, so I think you’ll like the Seksi fruit.” Lotor continued to speak. Lance nodded along, scrunching his nose up as they came closer to the tree.

Okay, so Lotor hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that the smells and scents of this place were a bit overwhelming. Lance fought the urge to sneeze, wiggling his nose as he tried to adjust to the over powering scent.

If he’d thought that the sweet scent was bad out in the village, he was clearly mistaken. The closer he got to the tree, the stronger the scent became, until it was overpowering everything.

Lance’s head swam in the scent. He could taste it on his tongue, thick and syrupy. He felt like he was getting more smoke than he was air, causing him to breath in more as he attempted to get more air. His head felt light.

Lance was reminded of the time he’d walked into a dorm room in the Galaxy Garrison where the occupants had been smoking way too much weed and the room had been hazy with the smoke. This was just like that, except this smoke was pink and sweet smelling.

Lance barely stepped over the threshold before he decided it to was too much. He tugged on Lotor’s arm, and tried to backpedal out. He tripped over his own feet, and in trying to not fall, ended up stumbling forward.

Lotor turned to catch him at just the right time, and he fell onto Lotor’s chest. He heard Lotor exhale with a ‘oomph’ and take a half step back to catch him. He felt bad, but he couldn’t figure out how to work his legs anymore, and so he just stayed there.

Great. He was an anime girl falling onto her love interest now. That was just perfect. Well, his life was basically an anime now. He found out he was a magical girl™ and his love interest was a space prince™. So of course, he’d fall on said love interest like this.

And he was referring to Lotor as a love interest.

…

His life was officially over.

He felt his face flush and he buried his face into Lotor’s chest. He was not going to look up at him. Nope. Not going to happen. Besides, Lotor’s body and clothes helped filter out some of the smoke; and Lance wasn’t going to lie, he preferred the soft scent of lilacs that Lotor was fond of.

He breathed in deeply, unable to stop himself from doing it. Was it weird that he liked how Lotor smelled? It was probably weird. He should probably stop before he made even more of a fool of himself.

The more he breathed in, the more the world seemed to warp around Lance. Noises blended into sights, and sights into tastes.

He could hear Lotor talking to him, but he couldn’t focus on the words when one of Lotor’s hands was running along Lance’s back. He shuddered at the sensation, pressing himself closer to Lotor.

The world swooped as Lance was picked up. He laughed, wrapping his arms around Lotor’s neck, and resting his head against the prince’s shoulder. The fact that Lotor could so easily pick Lance up and carry him bridal style did things to Lance.

He played with Lotor’s hair, twisting it between his fingers, enjoying how silky and smooth it was. The world blurred again as he was manhandled further, and he laughed as he was suddenly laying out on a pillow.

Lotor left, but only for a short period of time before he was back and took a seat next to Lance. Lance immediately relocated, shifting so that his head was in Lotor’s lap.

Lotor looked down at him and spoke, and although Lance could see his lips move and could hear his voice, the words were lost. Lance nodded like he understood, laughing as he reached up to tuck a stray piece of Lotor’s hair behind his ear.

“You’d look pretty with a flower crown.” Lance realized out loud, before gasping and putting his hands over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Opps. “I mean, you’re always pretty.” Lance tried to fix what he’d said, but somehow, he thought he might have just made things worse.

Lotor raised an eyebrow, and replied. Given his expression and how short his reply had been, Lance figured it was something posh and sophisticated like ‘is that so?’ or ‘really?’.

Well, bright side, Lotor seemed amused. Score for Lance. Lotor looked best when he was smiling. Especially if he was smiling because of Lance.

Hesitantly, Lotor reached down, his hand pausing right above Lance’s head. Lance tilted his head, looking between the hand and Lotor’s face.

“You can touch me.” He informed Lotor, grinning up at him.

There was a flash of something in Lotor’s gaze and then the back of his hand gently caressed Lance’s cheek before moving to card through Lance’s hair. A noise Lance never meant for Lotor to hear escape from his lips once Lotor’s nails scratched against his scalp.

Lotor’s hand paused. He looked like a kid who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and was staring at Lance with wide eyes. Lance titled his head back, pushing himself against Lotor’s hand and letting out a whimper.

Cautiously, Lotor repeated the action from before, scratching lightly at Lance’s scalp as he carded his hand through his hair. Lance sighed, practically melting.

Lance opened his eyes, unsure of when he’d closed them. The room inside the tree seemed brighter, and less filled with smoke. Windows and doors had cloth pinned against the side, allowing the smoke to escape.

Lotor’s hand was still in Lance’s hair and he was still using the prince’s lap as a pillow. He could hear Lotor’s voice as he quietly talked with someone. Lance tilted his head, seeing the village leader dude from before.

He was offering something to Lotor, who after a moment nodded and looked down to Lance. Once again, Lotor’s hand paused.

Well that was rude. Lance was enjoying that, thank you very much. He liked Lotor playing with his hair and petting him like that. It felt nice, and he was high enough off these people’s incense to admit it. He probably wouldn’t recall most of this, but, at this point, Lance didn’t really care.

That was future Lance’s problem, not present Lance’s.

Lance whimpered, and only then did Lotor resume petting him. Lotor’s other hand came up and after a moment of hovering above Lance, touched his face before sliding down to his neck, massaging right above the collar.

Lance sighed, relaxing into Lotor’s touch, and closing his eyes. Above him, Lance heard Lotor chuckle.

“Feel good?” Lotor asked after a moment. Lance hummed in agreement.

After a while, both hands stopped and pulled away, and Lance let out another whimper. Another chuckle responded.

“I think you’ll like this just as much, pet.” Lotor purred.

Lance opened his eyes to see if he could protest more to get more pets, but he saw Lotor holding something. He smiled at Lance, and pressed it against Lance’s lips. Obediently, Lance opened his mouth, accepting the cool tart flesh of some sort of fruit. He swallowed it after a couple chews.

It was sweet, but tart. It kinda felt like a peach, except, not. He licked his lips, trying to catch more of the flavor, and Lotor chuckled again.

“I knew you’d like it.” His gaze flickered to Lance’s lips, and once again, Lance saw something pass through his eyes. The prince grinned, and then sliced another piece of fruit, offering it to Lance.

This time, he let his fingers linger. By the time he’d processed the thought he’d had, Lance was enacting it. He kissed Lotor’s fingertips, licking against them when he accepted the fruit.

Lotor’s mouth barely dropped open. He licked his own lips, and shifted.

Once Lance had finished with the slice, Lotor’s fingers were at his lips, although this time without a slice of fruit. Lance grinned up at him, and then purposely opened his mouth. He sucked around Lotor’s long fingers.

He watched as Lotor’s face darkened. Lotor shifted again and then swallowed thickly.

Weird was probably the best way for Lance to describe how he felt. It felt like he had handed over reigns to the control of his body to something else. The scary thing was that he didn’t particularly mind.

As a matter of fact, as long as things continued to feel as good as they were, Lance didn’t even care. He could float in this haze forever and he’d be in heaven.

Lotor’s fingers slipped out of his mouth, and Lance pouted at their loss. He liked the feeling of something in his mouth. Something he could suck on. And with the juice of the fruit on Lotor’s fingers, he could almost believe them to be lollipops.

He didn’t need to fret, as almost immediately Lotor had another piece of fruit for him.

Some small distant part of Lance’s mind recognized that it was not okay to be doing this. He didn’t want to be giving Lotor thoughts about him, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t in control, and besides, he liked the shade of purple that Lotor’s face was turning with every suck and lick.

“Such a good boy.” Lotor cooed, and Lance preened at the compliment. It washed away his reservations with a mental wave of ‘Yes’.

Yes, Lance was a good boy. He was such a good boy, the best boy. He wanted more praise.

Hazily, he watched as Lotor sliced off another piece of the fruit. He pressed another slice to Lance’s lips and Lance opened his mouth to take it in, and then again to clean Lotor’s fingers.

Lotor inhaled sharply, and let his fingers rest in Lance’s mouth a bit longer this time. Lance hummed around the digits, and sucked sharply. “Looks so good.” Lotor muttered as he dipped his fingers in and out of Lance’s mouth.

They finished the fruit, and Lance whined, although he accepted Lotor’s fingers as a substitute. Lotor laughed, leisurely pumping his fingers in and out of Lance’s mouth.

“This is a good look for you.” He commented before sliding his fingers out and wiping them on Lance’s cheek.

Lance sighed and after a moment allowed his eyes to close. The scent of the smoke was still present, but it was tolerable now. His body tingled, his nerves felt shot, but in a pleasant way. His eyes snapped open only what felt like a moment later as there was a loud crackling noise.

A loud rumble following the crack, and echoed in the room. Lance tilted his head back to see that the sky outside had darkened immensely. A flash of light lit up the sky as lightning arced across it. He blinked, taking a moment to recognize what he was seeing.

“Is that a... a storm?” His words were still half slurred. His mouth tasted weird, like how mouths usually taste when someone hadn’t brushed before going to sleep, but worse. Like he’d been eating something sweet.

But he couldn’t pay attention to that when there was lighting arcing in the clouds.

Lotor didn’t stop him as Lance rolled off his lap and stumbled to the window, looking out and taking a breath. It smelled like rain.

“It triggers the blooming of the flower.” Lotor replied after a moment. Lance blinked, confused for a moment before remembered the vines in the middle of the city.

Lance looked over his shoulder to see Lotor watching him. He raised an eyebrow at the pillow in the prince’s lap. It took him even longer to remember that he’d been using his lap as a pillow. He’d been doing something else with Lotor, something involving fruit.

He licked his lips, tasting the sticky sweetness of some sort of fruit.

Yep, fruit had been involved. He scrutinized the prince before shrugging. It didn’t seem like he’d done anything, and to be frank, Lance was much more interested in what was going on outside then trying to decipher hazy memories.

Not only that, but if he’d been doing what he thought he’d been doing, then… He’d rather not remember.

“Can we go look?” Lance asked.

“The flower usually blooms after the storm.” Lotor furrowed his eyebrows. He patted the pillow on the floor next to him and smiled. “Why don’t you come back and eat some more fruit?”

Lance frowned, shaking his head. “I wanna see the storm.” He walked over to Lotor much easier than he’d walked over to the window, and dropped down to his knees since the prince was still sitting. “Please?”

Lance was trying the puppy dog pout, making sure that his eyes were extra big and that he looked pitiably and pathetic as he asked. Hopefully Lotor wouldn’t be able to say no to him. He sniffled after a moment for good measure.

Lotor sighed, and looked away, shifting as if he was uncomfortable. “If you want.” He muttered.

Lance didn’t even realize that he was doing until he was already doing it. He sprung forward, wrapping his arms around Lotor’s torso as he muttered a litany of ‘thank you’s. Then as quickly as he’d started the hug, Lance was backing away, and heading to the open door.

Huh, that must have been where all the smoke went. There was still a chunk of it burning in the tree hut, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it had been before. Not that it really mattered once Lance was outside and in the thankfully fresher air.

He breathed in a lungful of the air, tasting the rain.

The rain started with a couple of drops, which fell onto Lance’s outstretched hand, and then slowly grew more common as the wind picked up. Water hit against Lance’s face, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care as it flattened his hair, the steady rain becoming a downpour.

“Lance!” Lotor’s voice came from the nearby tree Lance had exited. He spun around, laughing as he kicked up rain in the puddles. Lance danced towards Lotor, spinning around in the rain until he was almost at the prince. “This isn’t-”

Lance cut Lotor off, crashing into him and after a moment, slotting their lips together. Lotor was nonresponsive for a moment before he realized what was happening and returned the kiss. His hands fell to Lance’s waist holding him close.

Lotor tasted too sweet and syrupy. Like the fruit that Lance could very vaguely recall eating. The taste was pleasant despite that.

Lance shivered as Lotor took control of the kiss, and practically melted against him, holding on by wrapping his arms around his shoulders and neck. One hand reached up to run through Lotor’s hair.

The need of air burned in Lance’s lungs, and he pulled away, grinning up at Lotor as he panted. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Lance breathed, before leaning back up and kissing him again.

This time, Lotor wasted no time to respond, and like before, quickly took control of the kiss.

Some small part of Lance’s mind was yelling at him. He was, after all, kissing Lotor, willingly and without prompting. Hell, Lotor himself hadn’t expected it, as evidenced by how nonresponsive he’d been at first.

Yet, Lance didn’t care.

He could dance in the rain. He could reexperience rain. His hair was plastered to his face. His clothes were soaked, sticking to his body like a second skin, and he was sure he was covered in some mud.

But he didn’t care. He could splash in puddles, and spin around in the rain.

He felt so light and free. He felt happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. Happy enough to ignore his headache, and the sweet taste of Lotor. Happy enough to ignore his soaked hair and clothes, and muddied legs.

He broke off the kiss, and turned around, twirling back into the rain with his face tilted to the sky. The lightning exploded, cracks of light dancing in the dark clouds. Thunder drummed in his heart, and for the first time in ages, Lance felt alive.

He laughed as the rain hit his face, and after a few moments, looked over his shoulder to see Lotor, staring at him. His hand had been near a pocket, but he was crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway, still inside the tree.

Lotor looked dazed, but when he noticed Lance looking at him he smiled, almost uncertainly.

Lance grinned back, and then laughed as another crash of thunder followed the lightning rolling across the sky.

Screw the flower that Lotor had brought him here to see. This was the better gift. He didn’t even care that he’d kissed Lotor in thanks. Lotor had given Lance rain, one of the things that Lance missed the most about Earth.

Warmth blossomed in Lance’s chest at the thought. He licked his lips, tasting the rain mix with the flavor of Lotor, and humming.

If Lotor had given him rain, then perhaps Lance could live with this. Perhaps him being with Lotor wasn’t all that farfetched after all. Lotor may have been the prince of the enemy, but that didn’t mean he was the enemy.

Besides, he treated Lance so well, and took care of Lance, and had given him rain. What more could Lance ask for?


	4. Keith: Alternative POV: Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the original Chapter written for Chapter 55. After writing this, I felt that the chapter would be better suited for Hunk's POV. 
> 
> When writing Hunk's POV of this scene, I recycled a lot of dialogue from this.

“Thanks to you, we now have some people on the inside of Prince Lotor’s ship. Although, we cannot say for how long. Our spies have never been able to infiltrate there before.”

Allura smiled at Pidge, Hunk, and Keith as she stopped the recorded message. “Congratulations, Paladins.” She grinned. She turned to Hunk and her grin softened, becoming less celebratory and more personal. “It’s good to have you back, Hunk.”

“Yeah.” His tone sounded off, like he was deep in thought about something. Hunk had yet to look up the entire meeting. He’d been staring at a single spot: the area which Lance usually claimed on the couch.

Keith would know, he’d been watching Hunk ever since he stepped into the room and Slav had ran off upon seeing him.

Slav, as it turned out, was quickly becoming Keith’s best friend in knowing when stuff was up.

“Hunk?” Allura spoke his name, but it was Pidge who leaned over to him and touched his shoulder. For the first time since the meeting started, Hunk looked up. He bit his lip and looked back down.

“I… I saw Lance.”

Keith was not proud to admit that his first thought was to question why Lance hadn’t been brought back with Hunk. He exhaled sharply, folding his arms so he wouldn’t do something he regretted, and looked down.

Pidge had the opposite reaction, gasping loudly, her eyes widening before taking in Hunk’s posture and tone. Pidge deflated.

Allura had gone completely still. “Well, that settles the rumors of a Paladin being caught.” Her words were stiff. “Good job Keith. Your theory was correct.”

“Why isn’t he here?” Pidge asked. “You saw him and you didn’t bring him back?”

“I…” Hunk shifted and fell silent.

“You what, Hunk?” Keith snapped, looking back up at the other male. Hunk adverted his gaze, refusing to look at Keith.

“I tried.” Hunk replied after a moment. “The Blades said they’d look for him, but, Lance was… They couldn’t find him.”

Allura took a seat next to Hunk, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Could you tell us what happened?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” Hunk shook his head. “Things didn’t seem right, you know? Like, most of the cells were empty, why would they put me next to… And he didn’t look… I mean…” Hunk shook his head again and threw up his hands.

“How did he look?” Keith heard his own voice ask, although he hadn’t meant to. Hunk bit his lip and shrugged.

“I don’t know, man. Contradicting, I guess.”

Pidge adjusted her glasses, and frowned. “What do you mean?”

That seemed to be the question Hunk needed because words just started pouring out of him like a waterfall.

“Like… I don’t know… he was beaten and bruised, and he had one of those glow-y wounds that Shiro had, ya know? But he… he didn’t look like a prisoner if you actually looked him over. His nails were manicured, and trust me, I know manicures.”

Hunk laughed hollowly. “Lance used to do them all the time whenever he was stressed. He even gave me a few. And he wasn’t thin enough. He was a healthy weight, and there weren’t bags under his eyes, and he just…”

Hunk trailed off, and put his head in his hands. Allura’s face had soured while Hunk spoke, and she opened her mouth to speak. Except, Hunk wasn’t done yet. “I can’t get the sounds of his screams out of my head.” Hunk continued.

Allura’s mouth dropped into an ‘oh’ of surprise, her eyes widening. Pidge froze, staring at Hunk.

Keith couldn’t breathe. Hunk’s words echoed in his head, like how he imagined Lance’s screams must echo in Hunk’s. Quiznak.

In his head, Red remained quiet. He could feel her seething anger for something like this happening to a Paladin, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Keith thought that that may have been what pissed her off the most.

“What happened?” Pidge asked after a moment.

“I don’t know!” Hunk shouted, throwing his hands down. “I don’t know! Some terrifying alien with a terrifying mask came and Lance freaked out, I mean, he was freaking out before, but now it was like 100 times worse, and he just kept shouting ‘no’ and ‘I can’t’ and then he was being dragged away, and I couldn’t do anything, and then Lance started screaming, and screaming, and screaming, and then it stopped, and…”

Hunk seemed to have ran out of words. He panted for a few moments before taking a deep breath, holding it, and releasing it. He crossed his arms and looked down.

“Physically, besides the bruises and the cut and stuff… he was fine. Mentally…” Hunk shrugged. “He was… manic. Frantic. He kept… he kept asking when we were going to rescue him.” Hunk choked on the last part, and Keith couldn’t blame him.

He could only imagine how hard this must have been on Hunk, to see his best friend like that. To hear him and not be able to do anything about it.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Pidge muttered, readjusting her glasses. “Why would the Galra give him a manicure and take care of him? Unless he was only recently captured, but that doesn’t match up with the rumors.”

Hunk shrugged.

Keith frowned, mentally sorting through the information that he’d been given. So, beyond some bruises and a nasty cut, Lance was fine… physically at least. Mentally, Lance didn’t sound fine at all. The Galra were at some point taking care of him enough to give him food and keep him at a healthy weight.

The Galra couldn’t have been using him as hard labor, or in the Gladiator arenas. If Lance’s nails had been manicured, then those options were off the table. So, what had been going on?

Pidge was right, none of this made sense.

“It doesn’t matter.” Allura replied to Pidge after a few minutes. “The Galra are poisoning Blue through Lance, and this cannot be allowed to continue.” She stood and took a deep breath. “I’ll be getting in contact with Kolivan to find out when his operatives will be able to return Lance.”

Hunk looked up, and shook his head. “The Blades said they couldn’t find him on the ship, not in any of the places they could go anyways.”

“So, we’ll go there ourselves.” Keith replied, standing up.

“With only Three Functioning Lions?” Hunk shook his head. “We’ll be murdered, Keith. Or worse, we’ll be thrown in a cell next to… I talked with the Blades when I was rescued. This Lotor guy isn’t going to just let us go and take one of his prisoners.”

“Then we’ll have to be stealthy.” Allura supplied.

“Oh, because that worked so well last time.” Pidge argued. “I’m with Hunk. As much as I want to get Lance back, if we go storming in there, nothing good will happen.”

“So, what?” Keith asked. “We just wait? Lance is being tortured, Pidge.”

Pidge frowned. “I just don’t think we should just jump straight in. Things aren’t making sense with Lance… what if it’s a trap?” She shook her head. “With only three Lions, we can’t do much!”

“We’ve successfully completed missions with less Lions than this!” Keith growled out. “Hunk and I took on a Weblum with only Yellow!”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to dive in without knowing more!” Pidge argued back. “We knew what we were dealing with, to some degree, during those missions. This is us attacking Lotor’s Central Command. You can’t seriously be suggesting this, Keith.”

“I’m the one who heard him, Keith.” Hunk interjected. “I want to get him out of there just as much as you, but rushing in isn’t going to help him.”

“Then we wait for the Blade of Marmora members to give us something.” Allura decided. “An opening, information, or even Lance himself if they can manage it.” 


	5. Lance: Alternative Chapter 56: Flashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an Alternative Chapter to Chapter 56. I originally had a different plan for Chapters 56-59. 
> 
> I became stuck after Chapter 59, and after talking to my beta, decided to cut these chapters completely and rewrite them, going in a slightly different direction. 
> 
> This Chapter was used as a building block for the finished Chapter 56, and as such a good 3/4 of the chapter is basically the same as the finished piece. The point where this is a difference has been marked with a Horizontal line break. 
> 
> It's only 11 short paragraphs, but they're needed to understand the following few Alternative Deleted Chapters.

It was hard to explain the state that Lance found himself in. His memories were colliding with each other, and what he could recall was foggy and hazy, like a distant dream. He was conscious, but not.

His eyes were open, his body alive, but his mind was muddled with static. He’d been in a state similar to this before, possibly. Quintessence tended to do this to a person. It was hard to think like this. It was hard to experience anything like this.

It was like every time he blinked, he saw and witnessed something different.

“Once the fight goes out, he’s not that hard to manage.” Lance knew that he knew the Druid who commented, but the name wouldn’t come to mind. It floated in the colorful haze of quintessence. Maybe it started with a ‘Y’? Or was it an ‘X’?

“You think you can fix him?” Odd, Lance knew this Druid too, but like the first, his name escaped Lance, except unlike the first, no letters came to mind.

The first Druid frowned, the faint purple glow of quintessence fading as he was distracted by the other’s words. “As I’ve said, if you let me work. I have to repair some stuff, and then he’ll be good as new.”

Lance blinked.

“You’re doing so well,” A Druid cooed as more of the sticky sweet liquid was poured into Lance’s mouth. Lance’s tongue was coated with it, and it pooled thickly, sliding down his throat into his veins and burning through him.

He coughed, choking on the syrup of quintessence, and the Druid shushed him. “I’m almost done.” He promised.

Lance blinked.

There was the sound of a sliding door and the beeps to accommodate it. A hooded masked Druid looked over him and the Druid holding him. Lance was reaching up, his hand held against flaky scales by the other’s grasp.

He should have been concerned about that, but all he could feel was the warm apathy of static quintessence. It crackled in his ears, and burned through his veins, filling the voids in his body, replacing blood and marrow and bone.

“You might want to hurry. I just received news that Prince returned considerably earlier than scheduled.” The masked Druid informed the unmasked one.

Something about what he said flooded Lance with fuzzy fluctuating emotions which broke through the static like whales breaching the surf.

The Druid who was holding Lance looked up at the other Druid’s words, although he was careful not to let Lance’s hand fall. His face twisted into a snarl. “Quiznak.”

Lance blinked.

“I did not authorize this!” Lotor – Lance would recognize his voice anywhere – snarled from somewhere Lance could not see.

A pretty pink alien with blue green eyes appeared in his vision. She studied him for a moment, her eyes widening as Lance flinched at Lotor’s tone. She looked over her shoulder for a tick before looking back down at Lance and pursing her lips.

She felt familiar, but he couldn’t place her. He knew her from somewhere, and he knew that she was… safe. Yes, that was a good word for her. Safe. Not as safe as Lotor, but still safe.

“You’re scaring him.” She called out. She smiled, and Lance was relieved to see it was kind. “Don’t worry. We’ve got you. Lotor doesn’t like people messing with his things without permission.”

“He’s not mentally present, Ezor.” A different feminine voice spoke, sounding both annoyed and exasperated. “He won’t be for a while. Go give him to his guard and then investigate the prisoner…”

Lance blinked.

A hand carded through Lance’s hair as Sonali spoke. “…wish I was an alchemist, you know? Then maybe I could-”

“You did what you could. I mean? You contacted Price L'Oréal about it, right? And he stepped in. Lance’ll be fine.” Lance could faintly hear Matt’s response as he interrupted Sonali. He sounded distant and small, like his voice was coming from a communicator.

Sonali replied in a noncommittal hum and Matt continued. “Thank him for the info he gave us about that prisoner ship near the Karthulian System, will you? We saved about twenty prisoners thanks to that intel.”

Sonali hummed quietly. “Will do.” They replied after a moment.

“And see if he can get any more information on the Robeasts. They’re really starting to get annoying.” Matt added just before an alarm resounded through the device they were using.

“Quiznak, look Sonali, I've got to go. There’s a problem with that space straggl-”

Lance blinked.

He watched a hologram of crystals floating. Chimes and instruments echoed through his head and in the room. It took him a moment but he realized that someone was humming along to it. It was Lance’s song, and he’d recognize the voice humming it anywhere.

Just like he’d recognize the hand carding through his hair anywhere.

He still felt dazed and hazy, but there was a change. A shift. He felt… anchored. He felt warm and fuzzy and safe. There was still static at the edge of his mind, in his memories and thoughts, but physically he was content.

Lance blinked, and he didn’t go anywhere. That was… pleasant. Good. That was… good.

Slowly he strung his thoughts together, feeling like he’d been dissembled and then reassembled again. Perhaps he had been. Quintessence could do that to a person, although, the last thing he really remembered was the lunch with Corral.

As much as he wanted to just slip back into sleep, he had priorities. He needed to find out where he was, and what happened. Obviously, he was with Lotor, so he had to be somewhere safe.

Maybe he’d over exerted himself in training again? Or while working on his crystal project?

Whatever. The sooner he found out, the sooner he could take a nap. He was exhausted. But… it was so comfortable where he was. And the music was so relaxing. His eyes almost threatened to shut as he laid there, trying to find the motivation and will to do anything except lie there limply.

“I still can’t believe Haggar pulled that.” A bright bubbly voice complained from somewhere. Lance didn’t recognize the voice, except he did. It was very vaguely familiar in the aspect that he’d heard it a lot.

He blinked again, and It took Lance a moment to place where he was, but he realized the hologram was playing from a device on Lotor’s nightstand.

“He’s been out for nearly a quintant!” The voice continued. The name was on the tip of Lance’s tongue. It started with an ‘E’… and he knew her.

“This takes time, Ezor.” Another feminine voice replied.

Ezor! He knew Ezor. She was… she was Lotor’s general. The colorful one. And the person who just spoke was another of Lotor’s generals. She liked spy and kid movies and didn’t care much for explosions.

Their presence paired with Lotor’s hand and voice meant he was definitely safe. He was safe and sound and he could rest. Lance sighed and felt himself relax. Tension he didn’t know he had leaving his body as his eyes slipped shut. The hand in his hair stilled, and the humming stopped.

“Lotor?” Ezor immediately asked. “Everything okay?” Hearing the name confirmed the hummer’s identity, which he’d already known. But hearing a confirmation helped to remove any lingering nonexistent doubt.

He was so tired. Why was he so tired? It felt like he’d just woken up. He wished Lotor would continue to touch him. He felt better with Lotor.

His thoughts were fragmenting again, but Lance refused to allow that. He clung onto them like a shy child clung to their mother.

“I believe so.” Just hearing Lotor’s voice filled Lance with a rush of relief. It was like he’d been a dehydrated man and someone had given him water. It was one thing for a confirmation through Lotor’s name, but hearing Lotor’s voice was a balm to a burn Lance hadn’t known he’d had.

“Acxa, could you hand me the light?” Lotor commanded.

There was the sound of shuffling, and then a hand was on his cheek. A finger brushed along his cheek bone, and Lance felt the tingle of a connection before the hand was removed.

That was feedback from his scales, so, he wasn’t in his human form anymore. Wait… why had he been in his human form? He’d been at lunch with Corral and then… and then…

“Lance, could you open your eyes for me?” Lotor asked as he stroked Lance’s cheek, distracting him from his thoughts. For once, Lance wished that Lotor would touch his scales. He liked the feeling. His own feelings felt… raw.

Which probably wasn’t helped by his exhaustion.

Regardless of how Lance felt, his prince had asked him something, and who was Lance to deny him.

Slowly Lance opened his eyes. His vison blurred before sharpening, and the first thing he saw was Lotor’s smile. There was an unusual emotion swimming in his eyes but when he granted Lance’s silent wish and brushed over Lance’s scales, Lance could identify it. Concern. The prince was concerned for him.

Lance would have asked about it, but a bright light was shined into his eyes before he could. Lance winced.

“Shh, I know, I know.” Lotor soothed. The light was taken away, and Lance tried to blink the spots away before giving up and closing his eyes, turning his face into Lotor’s hand and letting out a quiet whimper.

“His pupils are responding again.” It took Lance a moment to recognize that as Acxa’s voice. She’d been the one talking to Ezor in the beginning too. “He seems to be more physically present now.”

“That’s promising, right?” Ezor asked.

Lotor’s hands ran over Lance, stoking his hair or brushing against his cheeks. At one point, the hand in his hair slide down to his neck, massaging above where his necklace was. It must have been returned to him. Lance was glad for that.

“Physically, yes.” Acxa replied. “Mentally, it’s hard to say. For as much as we use it, quintessence is a dangerous substance. Those with addictions quickly deteriorate mentally while on it and coming off it.”

Part of Lance was curious about why Lotor wasn’t joining in the conversation, but then again, Lotor tended to be an observer with them. Besides, he was probably distracted with petting Lance, and Lance wasn’t going to complain about that.

Although, he was worried about what Acxa was talking about with ‘additions’. He wasn’t addicted to anything, least of all quintessence.

“Is it cuz he used to pilot a kitty that he’s been good so far, then?” Ezor asked. “That’s so cool.”

“We can only theorize what effects being a Paladin of Voltron has upon a person and their response to quintessence, but yes. That is the… current theory.” Acxa paused hesitated as she spoke, almost as if she was omitting something from her statement.

Not that it mattered what she was omitting. She mentioned Voltron, and a flash of a memory appeared in Lance’s mind of Hunk sitting in a cell reaching out.

That was right. Lance had been pulled out of his lunch with Corral for an experiment with Hunk. They’d finally caught one of the Paladins and Xana had wanted Lance to try to use their previous friendship and… and…

There was the sound of a door sliding open distracting Lance from his thoughts and pulling him back to the present. The conversation in the room died.

“Have you located the traitors?” Lotor asked.

Traitors. Traitors… Was Lotor talking about Sonali or… no! He remembered! Hunk said that that the Blade of Marmora or the Voltron team was going to rescue them. And then…

Lance knew he lost his cool, but the more he tried to think on it, the more hazy and foggy the memories became. He didn’t know how he’d ended up in Lotor’s room with the prince and his generals. He thought Xana might have been involved. Vaguely he could recall the sound of Lotor shouting.

Which was odd because Lotor didn’t usually shout. The angrier he got, the quieter he became. He only really shouted when he was surprised, and even then, he was quick to regain control of himself.

He could worry and wonder about that later. Lotor was asking about traitors which meant either he’d discovered Sonali or… Or Hunk had been rescued as he said he would be. And if Hunk was rescued, and Lance was in Lotor’s room then…then that meant…

That meant…

Lance had been abandoned by the Voltron team again.

Well, quiznak them! He didn’t need them!

He was working with a different resistance now to bring down the Galra empire. He was working with Lotor, who would provide a better Empire. He wasn’t Zarkon, he was better. Voltron wasn’t needed; not by the universe, and certainly not by Lance.

“Everyone seems to check out for now.” Lance would recognize the low growly pitch of Zethrid anywhere. “I’ve narrowed it down to personal from the transfer, but even then, there was a larger exchange of soldiers than usual. A problem in the register.”

That would be the Blade of Marmora’s doing.

Lance hadn’t really planned on doing anything with them if he’d come across them. Which was really a favor to them considering that if he wanted to, he could really fuck their shit up. He knew where their base was, he knew roughly how their bases were made and hidden, and most importantly, he knew how to find members.

But no, Lance had been content to leave them be. They hadn’t done anything to him to warrant him messing with them. Although their very existence annoyed Lotor, they hadn’t threatened either himself or Lotor.

The Blade of Marmora’s main priority seemed to be just Zarkon and dismantling Zarkon’s empire, and Lance could respect that. After all, if Zarkon was still emperor, then Lance would have been thrown in the Gladiator rings, or been used as a Druid experiment, or both. Lance didn’t blame them for wanting to take down Zarkon; even his own son didn’t like him.

But now they’d made things personal with Lance, and that was something Lance couldn’t just ignore. They’d taken Hunk away from him, and they’d even had the audacity to leave Lance behind.

…

Not that Lance wanted to leave. No. Just the thought made his chest tighten, like someone had buried him in sand which was crushing his lungs. His hands were shaking, or perhaps it was his whole body, and his mouth felt dry like someone had shoved cotton in it.

No. He didn’t want to leave. He was happy here. He was happy with Lotor. He was safe, warm, content, and most importantly, wanted here. Why would he ever want to leave?

And he might have been able to show that to Hunk. Or at the very least, dissuade Hunk from continuing on with the stupidity that was Voltron. Despite all that’d been said and done, Hunk was still his friend, sort of.

Except, Hunk had truly left him this time. And that was something Lance couldn’t ignore either. He’d deal with the Blade of Marmora first, and then when he came across the Voltron crew, he wouldn’t go easy on any of them.

“How was that not caught?” Lotor’s voice was a low growl, jerking Lance back to the present. He shivered and not even a tick later there was the soft warmth of a blanket draped over him. For a moment he was confused about the source of it before he blinked up to see Acxa smile down at him.

“Narti’s doing her thing.” Zethrid answered. “But there’s only so much she can do, and you said I’m not allowed to threaten to shoot the crew anymore.”

“We’d use the Druids but…” Ezor chimed in.

“We didn’t think it appropriate at this time.” Acxa finished. “Given the circumstances of recent events.”

Lance took a moment to orient himself and see exactly where he was. He was in Prince Lotor’s bed, using the prince’s lap as a pillow. He blinked up at the ceiling – his favorite lightning effects was on, how sweet – and then moved, slowly sitting up.

If he hadn’t known it was all in his head, he would have thought that the room was suddenly on a carousel, spinning around. Lance blinked the dizziness away, not that it did much help.

He felt like a kid, spinning around on his mom’s office chair until he threw up. He could taste the bitterness of bile in the back of his throat, could feel what felt like his cheeks being shrunken, like his mouth was suddenly too small.

He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to not be sick. He was fine. He was fine. He was with Lotor and his Generals. He was safe here. He was fine.

“Lance,” Lotor chided quietly. “You should rest more.” Lotor was right, Lance should rest more. Already he could feel exhaustion creeping up on him, but the longer he waited to tell Lotor about the blades, the more of a chance the traitors had to escape. And after they took Hunk away, he wasn’t going to allow them that opportunity.

“There’s a blade.” Lance sighed, leaning bodily against Lotor. The prince immediately moved to best accommodate him, wrapping an arm around Lance to help steady him.

Ezor’s mouth was dropped open into an ‘oh’ of surprise, likely because she hadn’t expected him to speak. Which made sense based off what he’d heard about him ‘responding physically now’. Acxa’s smile had fallen and was replaced with one of her calculating cold looks.

“A blade?” Acxa repeated. Her hand rose to her mouth as she knitted her eyebrows in thought. “Most of the sentries and guards wouldn’t have a blade…” She mused aloud.

“That would make sense.” Ezor added in. “I mean, they’re called the Blade of Marmora.” She grinned, resting her hand on her hip. “No brainer, right?”

Lance wasn’t sure how they hadn’t known about the blades to begin with. It was like Ezor said, no brainer. Besides, that one spy was caught. Then again, Haggar was probably distracted with Voltron kicking Zarkon’s ass, and it just slipped her mind.

Or she was purposely keeping it from Lotor for some reason. Hm, things to think on later when he wasn’t so exhausted.

Acxa hummed, still deep in thought about something.

Ezor rolled her eyes and leaned over to pat Lance twice on his head. “Thanks for the info.” She praised. Any normal time Lance would have tried to bite her hand for such a patronizing display of affection, but he was too tired to protest it now. So long as she remembered to stay away from his face, and more accurately his scales, then he was fine.

He didn’t like people other than Lotor touching him there, and even then, he didn’t particularly care for it unless it was one of the rare moments where he liked it.

Lance allowed the petting for a moment before he turned his head away. She beamed at him and patted his head before spinning around to face the other generals.

“So,” Exor dragged out the vowel of the word in a singsongy way, “We’re gonna go through everyone’s stuff?” She arched an eyebrow. “That’s gonna take some time to do.”

“It’d be faster if I could just jettison the crew out to space. We can get a new one.” Zethrid offered.

“And risk more infiltrators?” Lotor returned. “I think not.”

It might have been the exhaustion speaking, but Lance’s brain automatically changed Lotor’s statement to ‘I think the fuck not’.

* * *

 

Lance didn’t like that idea either. He rather liked Sonali, and he didn’t want anything to happen to them if he could help it. “You can use me.” He counter offered.

“Absolutely not.” Lotor immediately replied. “You’re in no shape to do anything right now. You shouldn’t even be up.”

It was sweet how concerned Lotor was for him, but Lance was big boy. Besides, he couldn’t just let this opportunity pass. He couldn’t allow for this infraction against him to continue. Besides, if the shattered pieces of this plan he was making was right… then he’d never be in harm’s way.

Lance twisted and reached up to rest his hand against Lotor’s cheek. He gazed up into Lotor’s eyes and smiled. “Trust me.” Lance didn’t ask so much as quietly demand.

Lotor pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing at the… request. “I’ll need Ezor.”

“You need me?” Ezor asked. “What for? What’cha thinking of?”

“I think he wants to be used as bait.” Acxa answered before Lance could. “Now that they know Lance is here thanks to the Yellow Paladin, it is likely that they will attempt to find out information from him.”

I’ve seen the footage of what happened before the breakout, and the Yellow Paladin was very concerned about Lance. It is likely that the traitors will attempt to find out what happened."

He told himself he’d just be resting his eyes, but that was just a lie people told themselves when they needed sleep but didn’t want it. He heard the others respond to Acxa, although their words were fuzzy, like he was listening to them with cotton in his ears.

By the time Lotor responded, Lance felt the response more than he heard it. Despite all this time spent in Lotor’s presence, it was still a relief. He was happy to be back with him. Lance sighed, nuzzling his face into Lotor.

He’d done what he’d needed to do. He’d told them how to best find the Marmorites, now it was up to them to use that information. Lance could rest now, like Lotor had wanted him to. 


	6. Keith: Alternative POV: Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the original Chapter planned for Chapter 57. I wrote this chapter from 3 different POVs. Keith's was first, then Pidge's, and then finally Allura's. 
> 
> In the end, Allura's POV was the version I chose to polish up and post. 
> 
> Because this is a POV Change, most of the dialogue was recycled into the finished post.

It took every bit of Keith’s willpower not to sigh as Allura cornered him after the team meeting. It wasn’t like he’d meant to keep information from Allura and the others. It just hadn’t come up. There’d been so much else going on.

He crossed his arms defensively as she frowned him down. Someone shorter than him should be able to frown him down. It was unfair.

Red rumbled in agreement in the back of his mind. If Allura had wanted Keith to come to her with things, then she shouldn’t be such a pain to deal with. There was no point in rehashing information. Besides, she probably would have doubted it all anyways. Or worse, refused to accept it.

She tended to do crap like that. Like when they’d discovered the Blade of Marmora and Allura had dragged her heels every chance she got. Like Keith got it. He did, really! Like there were things that he didn’t understand – like Lance’s references or that stupid Voltron cheer – but this was something he understood.

Lance probably would have called him the King of Paranoia. So yeah, Keith understood where Allura was coming from. But he trusted his instincts, and right now, they were saying full speed ahead.

“Keith,” Allura started.

“You wouldn’t have listened!” Keith didn’t even give her a chance to start beyond his name. “You never do!”

“Keith!” Coran chided from behind Allura. He was thoughtfully twisting and pulling at his mustache, although he stopped to cross his arms and glare at Keith.

“She’s never going to learn if you don’t let her.” Keith growled at Coran. “If you keep defending her, even her bad choices, then she’s just going to keep making them.”

“And what bad choices have I made, Keith? From where I stand, you are the one making things difficult.” Allura intervened before Coran could reply, stepping up to Keith and somehow still looking him down.

“Lance.” Keith hissed out. Allura’s mouth dropped and she took a mini step back, which Keith counted as a victory.

“This is not about him, Keith. This is about you and your behavior.” Allura’s voice was cold as she spoke. She tilted her head up, locking her jaw as she attempted to stare down Keith. Well too bad for her. Keith was tired of playing ‘cool’ and ‘calm’.

That was Shiro’s job, and if Shiro wasn’t here to do it then, well, Keith was tired of doing it. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t how he led, and if Shiro had a problem with it then he could pop back into the Castle via the way he’d exited and tell Keith that himself.

“No. This is about you, and how you never listen!” Keith shouted. “I’ve been saying that we need to find Lance since this all started. I’ve been saying that we should have tried to talk to him before he disappeared. Everyone agrees but you, Princess.”

Movement caught his attention, and he looked past Allura and Coran to see Hunk and Pidge at the doorway. The shouting must have gotten their attention, which was fair. The team meeting had only just finished.

“Lance was spying on us for the Galra.” Allura growled out. “The only reason I’m allowing him back on this castle is for Voltron.”

“And that’s the problem!” Keith threw his hands up. “That’s all it ever is with you. Altea this, Galra that, Voltron everything! There are more to us than Voltron, Allura. I thought you understood that!”

“Says the one keeping information from us.”

“Oh, like you didn’t keep information from us. The Black Bayard was lost with its original Paladin, huh? Might have been nice to know that Zarkon was said Paladin before you know, he kicked our asses when we were trying to save you.” He paused. “And why did we need to save you again? Oh right, because you wouldn’t listen when you were told to stay on the castle.”

Keith shook his head. “When we met the Blade of Marmora, you tried to stop us every step of the way. You refused to listen to us when we said they might be good. You think that just because you’re a princess that you’re entitled to do whatever you want. Or that we have to listen to you.”

Keith didn’t see it coming, and based on the gasps he heard from the doorway, neither had the other Paladins. Slowly, his hand reached up to touch his cheek. The sting from Allura’s slap still persisted. In the back of his head the once dull roar of Red echoed through his ears, racing along with the blood he could hear pounding there.

How dare she.

“Don’t you dare presume that you can lecture or command me. You are not my father, nor are you my advisor.” Allura snapped.

“It’s no wonder Voltron won’t listen to you.” Keith growled. “If you aren’t going to listen to anyone but yourself then why should anyone listen to you?”

Keith pushed past Allura and stopped at the door way. He hesitated for a second before looking back over his shoulder at Allura. “I don’t blame Lance or Shiro for leaving. At this rate, I might just leave too.”

His final piece spoken, he left, heading down to Red’s hangar. 


	7. Pidge: Alternative POV Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the 2nd version of Chapter 57. I wrote this chapter from 3 different POVs. Keith's was first, then Pidge's, and then finally Allura's.
> 
> In the end, Allura's POV was the version I chose to polish up and post.
> 
> Because this is a POV Change, most of the dialogue was recycled into the finished post.

It was the shouting that first drew Pidge’s attention to the small offshoot room where Allura and Keith had disappeared off to. She bit the bottom of her lip, looking between that small room and the doorway.

There were things she needed to do. Communication devices to crack, videos to sort through, encryptions to break… the list never ended. Not to mention Hunk really seemed like he needed some TLC, not that Pidge was the best person to give that to him.

No, Lance was the best at TLC. He always knew how to make things seem better somehow. She supposed it was a big brother thing. Or maybe it was just a people thing. Lance was so much better at people than her or Keith.

She closed her eyes for a tick and then made her way over to the room. She wasn’t getting anywhere with what she was doing and… she wasn’t going to leave Keith to Allura and Coran to be double teamed. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Keith could handle himself, but, he tended to get a bit hotheaded sometimes.

“…Everyone agrees but you, Princess.” She caught onto the tail end of Keith’s half shouted argument. For a moment his gaze met her’s before they flickered away to Hunk, who’d come to stand beside her, and then back to Allura.

“Lance was spying on us for the Galra.” Allura growled out. Pidge suppressed the urge to sigh or scream. Of course, this was about Lance. What else would the fight be over? “The only reason I’m allowing him back on this castle is for Voltron.”

Okay, yeah. No, she was back to siding with Keith on this one. That was uncalled over. She opened her mouth to speak but Hunk’s hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up at him to see him shake his head.

“And that’s the problem!” Keith shouted as he threw his hands up. “That’s all it ever is with you. Altea this, Galra that, Voltron everything! There are more to us than Voltron, Allura. I thought you understood that!”

She’d wondered when Keith was going to snap. There’d been just so much tension and stress on him lately that she’d started to wonder if he was ever going to let it all out or if he was going to internalize it until he exploded.

She wasn’t sure which this was.

“Says the one keeping information from us.” Allura replied. Which, fair point to Allura, but it wasn’t just Keith keeping information. Pidge could have shared it too.

“Sorry.” She whispered up at Hunk. He side-eyed her, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he nodded at the commotion in front of them.

“Oh, like you didn’t keep information from us.” Keith rebuffed. “The Black Bayard was lost with its original Paladin, huh? Might have been nice to know that Zarkon was said Paladin before you know, he kicked our asses when we were trying to save you.” He paused. “And why did we need to save you again? Oh right, because you wouldn’t listen when you were told to stay on the castle.”

Pidge and Hunk both winced at Keith bringing that up. That whole event hadn’t been Allura’s best or brightest moments. But it seemed Keith wasn’t done as he shook his head and continued.

“When we met the Blade of Marmora, you tried to stop us every step of the way. You refused to listen to us when we said they might be good. You think that just because you’re a princess that you’re entitled to do whatever you want. Or that we have to listen to you. Well I have news for you: we don’t.”

There were many things that Pidge was expecting to occur from this all. Allura storming off, Keith storming off, maybe more shouting. Okay, a lot more shouting. But what happened was something she hadn’t predicted.

Based off Hunk’s gasp, which mirrored her own, he hadn’t expected this either.

Keith’s mouth dropped open as his hand slowly rose to touch his cheek. Pidge couldn’t be sure from where she was standing, but she thought a red imprint of Allura’s hand may still be on his cheek.

“Don’t you dare presume that you can lecture or command me. You are not my father, nor are you my advisor.” Allura snapped.

Keith’s jaw snapped shut, and Pidge could see him clench it a few times before he gave up and just let loose. “It’s no wonder Voltron won’t listen to you.” Keith growled. “If you aren’t going to listen to anyone but yourself then why should anyone listen to you?”

Pidge felt frozen as she watched Keith literally push past Allura, and stalk forward until he was at the doorway. Automatically she and Hunk moved aside, waiting for him to pass. This close she could confirm that there was, in fact, a small pink mark where Allura had slapped him.

Damn.

She could also see the vein in his jaw popping. He rolled his lips and then looked over his shoulder at Allura. “I don’t blame Lance or Shiro for leaving. At this rate, I might just leave too.”

He didn’t wait for Allura to say anything before he stalked past Pidge and Hunk, headed for the door, and disappeared through it.

Pidge mouth fell open as she watched him go, and she only looked back to Allura when she heard Hunk quietly ask, “Allura, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She snapped, turning away from Hunk and Pidge and storming past them to exit through a different door.

“We’re a mess.” Pidge muttered.

“Yeah… yeah we are.” Hunk agreed. 


	8. Lance: Alternative Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the Original Chapter planned for Chapter 58. I had a different plan for Chapters 56, 58, and 59. After writing 59, I became stuck and upon consulting my beta, decided to cut and rewrite these chapters.

Lance sighed, nuzzling into the warmth of Lotor’s body. The prince’s hand was stroking up and down his back. And then the asshole decided that wasn’t enough and evidently extended his claws so he could scrape them again against Lance’s spine in a way that he knew made Lance arch and press closer to the prince.

Some part of him was annoyed by this. After all, didn’t Lotor know that Lance required his beauty sleep? But another part of him preened at the attention.

He looked up at Lotor, giving him a half-hearted glare as the Prince ran his claws once again down Lance’s spine. Lotor grinned, the smile was all gleaming teeth, and then shifted to kiss the top of Lance’s head.

“Feeling better?” He asked, his hand pausing.

Lance hummed as he considered the question.

After some rest, he did feel a lot better. His head still hurt, but it was a manageable hurt. Nothing some painkillers wouldn’t take care of. His body ached, but like the headache, it was manageable. Quiznaking quintessence.

He still didn’t have an answer as to what had happened between the time in the cell with Hunk to when he woke up. He knew quintessence was involved somewhere along there, the symptoms were too obvious, not to mention what Acxa had said.

He hated the stupid fuzzy film of his memories and the still persistent haze in his mind.

Instead of answering he buried his face into Lotor’s chest and sighed. Lotor chuckled, and resumed petting him. Lance practically melted.

It was irritating that he couldn’t remember. But then again, it was an occupational hazard, one he’d unfortunately come accustomed to.

It was a hazard of playing with quintessence, and with his lack of tolerance and resistance to it, he was more susceptible to some of its mind-altering affects. And he’d known that before, but why was it just now bothering him like this?

Whatever. If he didn’t remember, it was because he didn’t want to remember. Besides, if he was with Lotor, then whatever had happened was fine now. Lance was safe with Lotor.

Then again… No one could say that Lance wasn’t curious. And while curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back.

“What happened?” Lance asked after a moment. His voice was slurred with sleep, and half interrupted with a yawn.

“He speaks!” Lotor teased, but there was a definite current of relief to his tone. Lance laughed, half hiding his face in the covers. “No,” Lotor half growled. His arms went around Lance and he half picked Lance up.

Lotor twisted, shifting them until Lance was trapped underneath him. “No place to hide now.” Lotor teased. Lance laughed and leaned up to kiss the prince. Lotor started to kill him back, pushing him back down to the mattress before stopping.

“You haven’t answered my question.” Lotor said. “How are you feeling?”

Lance hummed, biting on his bottom lip gently as he considered the question. The haze that he usually felt after first waking was still present. His memories of the night before still foggy. He felt tired, but not in the physical sense.

More like a mentally drained feeling. Like he’d been mucking around with quintessence too much. There were things that he ¬knew. Like, he knew that last night something had happened, something… bad? Or important, but he couldn’t think of what it was.

If it was truly important, then he’d remember as time passed. Or, Lotor would tell him.

He grinned up at Lotor, reaching up to tuck some of his hair behind his ear, not that did much when the prince was looming over him like he was.

“Dazed.” Lance supplied. Because that was the truth. “Confused.” Lance added on after a moment, because that was also the truth. “I don’t remember much of yesterday.” He watched Lotor’s face carefully after his admission.

Darkness flashed in Lotor’s eyes. He wasn’t happy about something, but Lance didn’t get the feeling that it was directed at him. Whatever had happened yesterday, Lotor wasn’t happy about it. Which meant Lance couldn’t be mad at him.

Good.

Lance didn’t want to be mad at Lotor, especially since Lotor was always so good to Lance. He leaned up and kissed Lotor again, wrapping his arms around him. Lotor indulged him for a moment before breaking the kiss off and once again pressing Lance down.

Lance whined, his dull nails scratching at Lotor’s shoulders. “Needy.” Lance whimpered that reply, because that too was true.

He hadn’t felt the itch under his skin be this bad for a while. He just wanted Lotor’s attention. He wanted to be petted, he wanted to be kissed, to be touched. He just wanted Lotor. He would have been happy just sitting in Lotor’s lap all day, being touched and petted.

Maybe he could suggest that? Would the prince indulge him?

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Lotor replied, dipping down to kiss Lance.

Lance instantly melted, a breathy noise escaping him as Lotor broke off the kiss to slide down to Lance’s neck. Lotor nibbled there above the necklace, reminding Lance of how much he loved Lotor’s little kitten teeth.

His teeth broke the skin, and Lance groaned, tilting his head to give the prince further access. Yes. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be marked up, he wanted to be owned. He wanted proof that he belonged to Lotor.

Lotor pulled back, and Lance could have cried.

“Shh,” Lotor soothed. “It’s alright.” Lance’s stomach flipped at the words, and he swore he could hear an echo of someone else saying them.

Lotor pulled away further, rolling away and Lance sat up in the prince’s absence. He immediately regretted the action as the world spun around him. A spike of pain ran through his head. His stomach flipped again, and Lance thought he was going to be sick.

Lotor’s hand was instantly cupping his cheek, his forehead pressed against Lance’s. “It’s okay.” Lotor whispered. “It’s okay.”

The feel-good mood of before was suddenly gone, replaced by crippling anxiety. His heart was beating too quickly and he couldn’t breath. Yet he knew he was breathing because he was sucking in air, greedily breathing it in like he was drowning.

What was wrong with him? Why was he doing this?

He tried to ask, but the words were caught in his throat, blocking his airway, and choking him.

Lotor pulled him into his lap and held him, cradling Lance as he rocked slowly. Lance’s head went to Lotor’s shoulder, resting his chin there. Lance’s hands were shaking, and he blinked unshed tears out of his eyes.

It took Lance nearly a whole half a varga to calm back down, and that was only probably because of how tight Lotor was holding him and the comforting touches he was being given.

He clung to Lotor. His hands were still shaking, but he could breathe again. His heart wasn’t as frantic. He was fine. Really, he was. He hadn’t freaked out like he had before, in the very beginning.

He wasn’t crying or panicking anymore. He was fine, right? Right.

“What happened?” Lance asked.

Whatever had happened must have been bad if just Lotor moving away had produced such a strong reaction. And it had to have been Lotor moving away. That was the only thing Lance could think of that could have triggered that.

“Something that won’t happen again.” Lotor replied firmly. “Xana had hoped that you’d be able to get information out of one of your old teammates faster than he could have with proper methods. Haggar authorized it.”

“It didn’t go well for me, did it?” Lance asked, although he already knew the answer. If it had gone well, then Lance wouldn’t be having the issues he was having currently.

Lotor’s silence was all the response Lance needed.

Lance sighed.

Lotor echoed his sigh, and continued to run his hands up and down Lance’s back, occasionally coming up to card through his hair and scratch at his scalp – without the claws. The attention felt good, and after only a couple doboshs of it, Lance felt himself melting and relaxing again.

“You… responded badly to some things your friend said, and then it only became worse when he escaped.” Lotor’s words were slow and careful, as if he was afraid of setting Lance off again.

“I don’t want to leave.” Lance whispered, clinging tighter to Lotor. He could feel a spike of panic rising before it was quickly soothed away.

“Of course not.” Lotor cooed quietly. “But you blamed yourself for his escape, and you were hurt he didn’t even try to save you.” Lotor explained.

None of this explained the plaguing exhaustion, or the memory loss. But besides that, this did make sense. Lance would be furious if Hunk escaped and didn’t even try to rescue Lance. He was furious. Now that Lotor was talking about it, Lance could recall Hunk talking about a rescue.

The Blade of Marmora. It must have been them. No! It was them! Lance could recall talking to Lotor and the generals about it.

“Did you find your traitors?” Lance asked after a moment. Lotor paused, and then chuckled.

“Of course, you’d remember that. You were so helpful.” Lotor praised. “Thanks to your information, yes. We caught a few of them by tracing the Luxite in their blades. If there are any more, then they’ve ditched their blades and are lying low.”

So Lotor thought there may be more.

Which made sense. If they came in with the shift rotations, and because of a prisoner transfer, then that meant there was a percentage of new people on the ship. And if they ditched their blade, then they couldn’t be tracked through the Luxite.

They could go through all those new people, but that would take time. And if they purged all the new people, then the ship would be understaffed, and vulnerable.

The idea of traitors on his ship must have been eating Lotor alive. The idea of Blade of Marmora members on the ship was eating Lance alive. Fury burned through veins at the idea of them. He had no qualms with their desire to take down Zarkon’s empire.

But they’d taken Hunk away, and left him.

Not that he wanted to leave, but that wasn’t the point. Lance had been abandoned, again, by the Voltron team. What team member had it been? Hunk kept coming to his mind, so Lance supposed it must have been him.

Rage rushed through his body. Rage at the Voltron team for leaving him again. Rage at Blade of Marmora for helping Hunk escape. Rage at Haggar for subjecting him to whatever torture he’d been put through; and by extension, some rage at Xana too for going along with it. Although, he supposed that the other Druid hadn’t had much of a choice.

However, as angry as he was, the people he wanted to take his fury out on the most weren’t here anymore, thanks to the Blades of Marmora.

“It’s okay, pet.” Lance didn’t notice he was trembling until Lotor was petting him, cooing quietly in his ear. “They won’t hurt you.”

It wasn’t okay, and Lance knew they wouldn’t hurt Lance. After all, Lotor said they didn’t have their blades anymore. No Blades, no practically insta-killing a Druid. Oh. But they didn’t know that he was a Druid, did they? If anything, they’d know him as Lotor’s pet.

“Do they know who I am?” Lance asked after a moment. A plan was already coming to mind, although the most difficult part in putting said plan into action was his current attachment to Lotor.

Not that he didn’t mind being so attached to Lotor, but… it kind of put a crimp in both of their plans for the day. Well, he didn’t know Lotor’s plans, but he was sure it wasn’t coddling Lance. Also, he was pretty sure Lotor had left for some important meeting.

Which meant either Lance had been out for a couple quintants, or Lotor had returned. Why had he returned? Vaguely he could remember Matt’s voice talking about ‘prince L'Oréal’, which Lance knew to be Lotor.

Sonali must have alerted Lotor. If his reaction had been as poor as it seemed it was, then he definitely needed to thank Sonali for getting Lotor later.

“You mean as a Druid?” Lotor clarified. “Most likely not. Why?”

Lance pulled away so he could see Lotor’s face, leaning back and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He grinned, showing off his teeth.

“Well, I just have to wonder if they’d try to rescue the Blue Paladin, or if they’ll keep low.” Lance suggested.

“You want to bait them.” Lotor mused. “I suppose it would work, but we’d have to be careful.” His hand slid up Lance’s spine to the back of his neck, where he toyed with the necklace. Lance’s breath was caught in his throat at the mere thought of the prince removing it.

“I want this to stay on you.” Lotor murmured. “It was never meant to be taken off, and I was rather upset that it had been.”

Lance blinked, the memory of Xana taking it off flashed in his mind. That’s right, it had been removed. His hand automatically moved to the jewel, and he played with it. The quintessence inside the jewel resonated with his own, and he smiled.

“I don’t want it removed either.” Lance admitted quietly. “I was upset too.”

“As long as you wear that necklace, you belong to me.” Lotor informed him quietly. “Don’t allow anyone to remove it again.” He stroked Lance’s cheek. “Now, about this plan of yours… If I’m present, obviously it won’t work.”

Lance sighed, averting his gaze. He worried his bottom lip before quietly admitting, “I know”. He sighed. “But it we wait too long, then who knows what they could do.”

Lotor was quiet for a moment. “I know it’d be a poor comparison, but could one of my Generals substitute?” Lotor asked quietly. “Ezor could very easily hide within plain sight. You’d still be able to feel her, though.”

Lance shrugged. “I… don’t know. I mean, I know Ezor, but…” Lance bit his lip, his heart already beating a bit faster at the idea of separating from Lotor. “But she won’t be you.” He admitted quietly, looking up through his lashes at the prince.

“No. No, she won’t.” Lotor agreed quickly. “But it won’t be for long, pet. You’ll be back with me before you know it.” He paused, and then touched Lance’s neck and then his wrist where his bracelet was. “And you’ll have these to remind you that you belong to me.”

Lance nodded, conflicted by the need and want for Lotor and to punish the Marmorites.

Lotor shifted, grabbing his tablet from the bedside and tapping out a short message. “Ezor will be here in a bit. In the meantime, why don’t we get you cleaned up and ready?” Lotor proposed.

Lance grinned, although he knew they wouldn’t be able to get up to anything in the shower. After all there were Marmorites free on the ship, and Ezor would be present soon. But, Lance wouldn’t turn down Lotor pampering him if it was being offered. 


	9. Lance: Alternative Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the Original Chapter planned for Chapter 59. I had a different plan for Chapters 56, 58, and 59. After writing 59, I became stuck and upon consulting my beta, decided to cut and rewrite these chapters.

Ezor had been waiting in the room the moment he and Lotor exited the bathroom, and squeed the moment she saw him. “You’re awake!” She even did the ‘squee’ thing, complete with the shaking hands.

Somehow, Lance always managed to forget just how tall and intimidating Ezor could be. She was legitimately nearly a head taller than Lance, meaning she was barely shorter than Lotor. And despite knowing how friendly she was, that didn’t stop Lance from imagining all the ways that she could undoubtedly murder him.

Man, why did Galra have to be so tall? Except for Keith. Maybe he was a runt? He deserved it if he was.

“Yeah.” Lance replied lamely, leaning back as she invaded his personal space.

Normally he wouldn’t mind people as gorgeous as Ezor disregarding his personal bubble. He was, on principal, a very tactile person who didn’t usually believe in said bubble unless it was needed. Today, however, he just wasn’t feeling it, although, that was probably a product of his sudden intense need to be with Lotor.

As if sensing that, Lotor stepped partially in front of Lance, and looked Ezor down. Instantly, there was a change in her entire demeanor as she seemed to deflate before taking a solid step back.

“Sorry.” She looked down, and rubbed the toe of her boot in small circles on the floor. “I’m just so excited to see he’s alright.” She paused and grinned, physically appearing to brighten. “It’s so good to see him awake!” She peered behind Lotor. “I’m happy you’re okay!”

Lance nodded, slowly. Despite all his time with Ezor, he hadn’t seen her ability. But Lotor had said that she could hide in plain sight. Huh… so which one could teleport? Unless Sonali’s information was wrong, and it wasn’t teleportation but invisibility.

He’d bring that up to her when he had a chance. Maybe after he finished cleaning the ship up of the Blade of Marmora members.

“You had us all worried. Well, you had Lotor and I worried. Acxa and Narti are hard to read, and Zethrid was kind of hoping she’d be able kill some people on your behalf, so… I guess that’s her way of being worried.”

Ezor rocked forward and then back again. Lotor sighed and shook his head. After a moment, Lotor moved, changing positions so he was behind Lance and gave him a subtle push forward. The moment Lotor moved, Ezor bound back forward.

“I heard you’re still feeling off.” She hummed sadly. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be right as rain soon.” She smiled as she took his hand. “I don’t want to go back to being the only fun one around here.”

“Are you saying I’m not fun?” Lotor asked, frowning slightly and crossing his arms.

It was hard to tell with her coloring, but Lance was pretty sure she paled. She smiled up at him, tilting her head to the side as she let out a quiet awkward giggle. Lotor arched an eyebrow. Lance looked between the two of them and decided to help a girl out.

“You can be a bit of a stick in the mudd.” Lance shrugged. Lotor’s gaze shifted to him, and Ezor gasped. “I mean, you wouldn’t even dance in the rain with me.”

“Of all the betrayals I expected, this was not one of them.” Lotor replied. “You’re supposed to side with me, pet.”

Lance shrugged. “Well, she’s going to be taking care of me for a little bit, yeah? I don’t wanna piss her off.” He paused. “And I know how to get back on your good side.” He winked.

Lotor cleared his throat and looked away. Ezor sniggered behind her hand and then wrapped her arms around Lance in a hug.

“Thank you!” She half whispered in his ear as she spun Lance around. Once she’d completed a rotation, she put him back down and put both of her hands on his shoulders. “So, Lotor said something about baiting some traitors?”

Lance nodded, blinking dazedly. His stomach twisted, unhappy with how she’d spun him around.

“Careful with him, Ezor. He’s still recovering.” Lotor snapped. She blinked up at Lotor and then down at Lance before smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

Lance nodded, and Lotor sighed. “Lance, how about you go get some food in you.” Lotor gestured to the table. Lance nodded again, and took a step in that direction before pausing, and looking back to Lotor when he noticed the prince wasn’t moving.

His heart jumped up into his throat, and Lance had to remind himself that Lotor wasn’t going anywhere. Lance was fine. He was still wearing Lotor’s necklace – which he reached up to touch – and the bracelet. Lotor was still within sight. Lance was fine, so why was he so… anxious.

It was like his mind couldn’t decide between its bloodthirstiness for the Marmorites or a constant need of affection and approval from Lotor.

This sucked. Lance couldn’t wait for this strange neediness to go away.

“I’ll be right there in a moment.” Lotor nodded at him. Ezor let out another squee about how cute they were. Lance should probably have been used to it, considering she did it almost every time she saw him and Lotor together, but it still made him flush.

Lance hurriedly returned the nod and then went over to the table. His stomach twisted as he looked over the food, even the food that he knew he liked. He wasn’t hungry, but Lotor had told him to get some food.

He put some of his favorites on the plate, and then proceeded to push it around to make it appear like he’d eaten. A few doboshs later and the two came to the table. Lotor took a seat beside Lance, draping his arm over Lance’s shoulders. Almost instantly Lance leaned into the touch, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Lance,” Lance looked up at Lotor when he spoke. “I want you to remember that Ezor isn’t going to leave you, although you might not see her.”

Lance nodded, forcing himself to ignore the spike of panic at Lotor’s words and the reminder that he’d be separated from the prince. He supposed he could work on a project to keep himself busy and his mind preoccupied in the meantime, but…

Ezor took his hand, getting his attention. She grinned and winked fading from sight. Lance’s eyes widened, and instinctually, he squeezed where he could feel her hand resting in his hand. She squeezed back. She was still there, still present, even if he couldn’t see her.

He was right, invisibility. Man, that was so quiznaking cool! But… could it hold up to his other sight? He slipped into his other vision, and ignored the sharp spike of pain at doing so.

Lotor was a reassuring candy red at the corner of his eye. But Ezor was a lovely shade of light bluish green with minimum corrupted quintessence. He liked that. Blue was a good color. A safe color. He could appreciate the color.

Well, that made him feel better.

He dropped the other vision, and then turned to Lotor. “So, this is what you meant.” Lance smiled. “I like it.”

“I hoped you would. Do you think you’ll be fine with this?” Lotor asked. He held a fork with some fruit speared on it up to Lance’s face. Lance scrunched up his nose, both at the food and Ezor’s little squeal at the sight.

“Not for long.” Lance replied after eating the fruit. Lance shrugged and looked to Ezor. She regained her visibility. “No offense.”

She copied his shrug and grinned. “It’s no biggie. I get it, I’m not Lotor.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. Lance swatted her hand away giving and then ran his hand through his hair to cover up the motion. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“He doesn’t like hands near his face, Ezor.” Lotor reminded her before taking a sip of some water and spearing some more fruit for Lance. Ezor blinked almost comically.

“Oh, oh yeah. Opps! Sorry, Lance.” She smiled. “Your hair is just so soft, I can’t help myself sometimes.” She laughed.

“You don’t need to feed me.” Lance rolled his eyes at Lotor, huffing quietly before he took accepted the fruit. “And you need to get going.”

“I do.” Lotor agreed with a sigh. “Your guard can ‘escort’ you to a cell. Ezor, did you get the clothes I asked for?”

“The prisoner garb?” Ezor asked. “Yep. I think I can arrange it so his necklace and bracelet are hidden.”

“Wonderful.” Lotor put the fork down and paused, giving Lance a hard look. “Eat some more before you go.” He stood, and leaned down to press a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “Behave, pet.”

“Don’t I always?” Lance asked. “See you soon?”

“Of course.” Lotor replied before exiting the room. Lance stared at the door for a full moment before turning back to the table and sighing. Already he could feel that panic from early crawling over him, but it was… manageable. He could manage it. He could do this. He just needed a distraction.

“You guys are so sweet, it gives me cavities.” Ezor complained, taking a seat leaning against the table near Lance. He took a deep breath and turned to grin up at her.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of you two? Please.” Ezor rolled her eyes. “You two are sickening.” Lance hummed noncommittally, and ate some more fruit. He wasn’t really hungry, but he didn’t think that Ezor would let him leave without him eating more.

“You done?” She asked when he finally put his fork down. He nodded, not trusting his mouth to speak lest he say something he regretted, like asking for Lotor to come back. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“Everything will be fine.” She assured him. “I heard you were working on some sort of project. Maybe you could focus on that while I take care of any Blade members stupid enough to take the bait.”

Lance nodded and stood, allowing Ezor to put the prisoner garb on over his body suit. “I mean, all we need to capture is one.” She continued to speak as she went through the motions of adjusting Lance’s clothes to hide the jewelry. “If they know the identity of the others, then I’m sure one of the Druids could interrogate them.”

Lance froze at that, thinking over her words and implications of it. He was one of the Druids. While he was after the organization’s blood right now, he would eventually have to interrogate rebels.

It was one thing to want someone dead, and another entirely to… to… interrogate them. What if he had to interrogate Matt, or Sonali? He could honestly care less about the previous Voltron team, but when the time came, could he still say that?

He’d flaked and panicked after just talking to Hunk.

So, lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice he’d grabbed a small crystal before Ezor was ushering him out the door, turning invisible as she did so. He could feel her hand still pressed against his back, guiding him pushing him on, and he focused on that, trying to keep himself from panicking again.

Sonali either knew what was going on or knew not to ask as they remained quiet. Although, he could just feel them judging him.

Well, whatever. They could judge as much as they wanted. He tightened his hold on the crystal, using it to help ground himself along with Ezor’s hand.

He haltered when they entered the cells. He couldn’t quite remember what happened here but from the flashes he could, he had no lost love for this place. Ezor gently pressed him forward, and headed for the cell he’d been in before. Once inside the cell, Ezor guided him to one of the back walls, where he took his seat.

“Do whatever you need to keep yourself distracted.” Ezor whispered into his ear. Her arm was along his shoulders, her side pressed up against his. “I’ll keep watch.”

Lance nodded, putting his hands in his lap and playing with the crystal, fiddling with it. He took a deep breath.

How could he even think about trying to do this if he wasn’t steady himself? He debated dropping into his astral plane, but considering what happened last time, he didn’t think that was such a great idea.

All he could really do was focus on what he was doing now. If he really wanted to hurt the Blade of Marmora, then he knew the location of their headquarters. All he had to do was tell Lotor and then the Blade of Marmora would be taken care for a while.

So, why hadn’t he? Was it because he maybe didn’t actually want anything to happen to the Blade of Marmora? Like, obviously, he had a personal thing against these fuckers because they rescued Hunk but hadn’t even tried to help him, not that he would have gone with them… but…

It was the principal of the matter. They’d abandoned Lance. Hunk had abandoned Lance.

Lance didn’t want all of the Blade of Marmora to suffer, just these guys.

“Careful, play with your necklace too much and it won’t stay hidden.” Ezor whispered into his ear.

Lance nearly jumped, although he dropped his hand back down to his lap. He gripped onto the dead crystal instead, and took another deep breath.

Ezor’s words did trigger a thought. There may have been more to his necklace than he originally thought. Words from before swam in his head. Acxa talking about quintessence addiction, and then phrases he couldn’t quite properly recall Xana saying before.

Not to mention all the memory gaps he had. How many times had he woken up in Lotor’s rooms not remembering how he’d gotten there and being told it was from ‘over training’ or something?

And now, after some horrible event, he was so clingy and needy.

“…upon yourself and your conditioning.” Xana’s voice drifted through his mind. The place and the time was unknown and uncertain, but Lance recognized Xana’s voice. Conditioning. What conditioning?

Sonali had talked about corruption before, and he knew it was inside him. Was that part of the conditioning? Or were his feelings towards Lotor all fake? All products of some sort of conditioning he’d just accepted.

He felt like he knew the answers to all this but just hadn’t wanted to accept it. After all, he’d rationalized with himself that he was helping out the resistance, that Lotor was better for the Empire. And maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t.

Lance didn’t know anymore. He didn’t know anything anymore, not even himself.

What was he doing? Playing bait in hopes to catch some well-meaning Marmorite so they could be tortured for information.

Sonali had been right. Lance was losing himself.

Except he was far too deep down the rabbit hole now to try to leave. His only option was to keep falling and falling and hope that he could find his way out of Wonderland in one piece. Sane would be nice, but he doubted that would happen at this point.

He was already so fractured and shattered.

He had too much corruption running through himself to try to bail out now. It’d affected too much of himself, changed too much. When he thought of Pidge, or Hunk, or Shiro, or any of the others, it was with contempt.

He couldn’t even remember the name of his oldest sibling, or what gender they were. It was like the corruption was eating away at his memories and thoughts. Twisting things around to make him hate and hate and hate except what he was conditioned to love.

And the corruption lived off that. That was probably why he was so clingy to Lotor. He, it, whatever, knew that if Lance left Lotor for too long, this would happen.

“Lance?” Ezor squeezed his shoulder. “You alright?”

No. No, he wasn’t alright. He wasn’t alright at all. He opened his mouth to say as much but nothing came out. The door to the cell opened, and Lance’s head snapped up. He tried to convey to the Blade of Marmora member that this was a trap, but they didn’t seem to understand.

Ezor’s physical presence pulled away as the Blade of Marmora member entered the cell. “Blue Paladin?” He asked.

Lance wanted to laugh, he wanted to scream, to shout or yell. Conflicting emotions ran through him. Hatred for his previous team. Fear for his current situation. Helplessness seemed to the strongest emotion.

If he left with the BoM, if he somehow managed to warn them in time through a mouth that wasn’t working, then what would happen? He’d be returned back to the Voltron team, and nothing would be different except the corruption in his veins and soul and the hatred for his team.

If he stayed, then what? He could go to a quintessence session, and just… forget again? Let Xana push this all to the back of his mind again? Brush it all away.

Ignorance was bliss, but… did he want that bliss?

Even if he didn’t, he’d have to deal with it. He watched the Blade of Marmora member crumple before his eyes. He rolled his lips and looked away, something like shame settling in his gut. He did this. And he could say it was the corruption all he wanted, but in the end, it’d been him who’d done this.

Ezor reappeared, grinning down at the Blade of Marmora member. “Too easy.” She half sung before kneeling and giving him a pat down. “No blade.” She sighed sadly. “So we were right. They either stashed them somewhere or tossed them.”

She shrugged and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped it on the knocked out Marmorite. She stood and approached Lance, pulling out her phone and sending a quick message before dropping to her knees beside Lance.

“You doin’ alright?” Her tone turned soft and caring, and Lance wanted to believe it. He really did.

But… if there was anyone who knew what had happened to him, it was Ezor and Lotor. Xana would have ran any ideas for Lance through Lotor, and Ezor was too much of a snoop to not know. She had to have known about him, about what they were doing to him.

Of course, he could at least take some pride in the fact it wasn’t entirely working. He’d never given up the location of the Blade of Marmora, or Sonali or Matt. He just given up the Voltron team.

And was that really such a bad price to pay? After all they’d left him. They’d left him and abandoned him, and… Lance dropped the crystal, pressing his shaking hands to his head. Ezor’s gasp was barely audiable over the voices screaming in his head.

Xana talking to him about things he couldn’t remember. The quiet croon of Haggar during his initial time with the Druids. Lotor’s quiet promises.

“I see you didn’t take heed my warnings.” Xana’s voice was cool, almost cold. Lance looked up to see the Druid in the doorway, likely having been called to deal with the Marmorite in the cell.

“He has his jewelry, he should have been fine.” Ezor replied. Good to know that Lance had been right about it affecting him after all. Not that it did him much good when he was this far gone.

“After his last time here, he wasn’t stable enough to be separated from the prince. The bond is probably crumbling, or he’s already broken through the conditioning.” Xana kneeled beside Lance, taking his face in his hand and forcibly turning Lance to look at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ezor demanded.

“Surveying the damage.” Xana replied. He was wearing his mask, but Lance knew his tone well enough to know that the Druid was giving her a sour look.

“Quiznak.” Ezor cursed.

There weren’t many options for Lance now. His choices were limited. But, right now, he did have a choice. If he allowed things to continue right now, as they were, there was a chance he could lose himself further and end up eventually turning on the resistance.

He’d end up turning on Sonali and Matt, and while they hadn’t done anything to or for him… they hadn’t done anything to him. They’d used him, true, but it wasn’t from malicious intentions. They hadn’t left him, abandoned him, or… conditioned him.

Lance took a steadying breath and grabbed at Xana’s hand. Both Xana and Ezor’s attention snapped to Lance. He licked his lips, weighing his words in his mind heavily.

He knew he’d regret these words, but it was better to say them than to let things play out. This way, at least, he was making the choice. He could try to control what would happen, and try to shape everything to produce the best outcome.

He took another deep breath, and spoke.

“Can you fix me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I had a different plan and direction originally planned for these chapters. In the end, they didn't fit in with the direction I wanted to go in, and thus they were cut.


	10. Keith: Alternative POV: Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was the original chapter for Chapter 73. I felt this moment was so important to the story that it had to be from Lance's POV. Because this chapter is a POV change, I recycled most (if not all) of the dialogue.

Keith stifled a yawn.  The lethargic atmosphere of the medical bay was finally starting to affect him, assisted by his own exhaustion.  Red was a muted presence in his mind, a background flickering candle which radiated warmth and comfort.  Normally he’d appreciate it, but now it was just hindering his efforts to stay awake. 

He’d taken over for Hunk – not that they were on rotating shifts of ‘Lance Duty’.  He was pretty sure that Pidge was in her lab… and Allura and Coran were probably about to head to bed if they weren’t already asleep. 

He should have been taking the time to get some sleep, but…  Lance always seemed calmer in the evening and night, and that was an opportunity Keith couldn’t pass up. 

Coran theorized it might have had something to do with the dimmer light settings that the Castle took on in an attempt to simulate ‘day’ and ‘night’.  Considering how dark the Galra ships were, it made sense.

Unfortunately, that meant Keith was staying up later and later.  He was thankful that the number of Lance-shaped emergencies had ceased – for now.  If he was this tired now, he could only imagine how much more exhausted he’d be from constantly running from one end of the castle to the medical bay or Blue’s hangar. 

He wasn’t even thinking about the addition of the mental and emotional strain that followed each emergency.  Like the one a couple days ago with Hunk. 

It also didn’t help that Keith was spending time talking to Allura with theories and ideas on how to help Lance.  So far, the only real idea that they’d come up with was to keep flushing the Blue Lion and hope that she would take care of Lance.

Despite only having done it once, it seemed to be working.  Either that or Lance was a better actor than Keith gave him credit for.  They weren’t to the stage of testing whether or not Lance could be released, but he had been steadily getting more relaxed and friendly around the team. 

Lance mirrored his yawn, and if it wasn’t for the movements of him covering his mouth, Keith wouldn’t have known that Lance had yawned at all.  Who knew the guy could yawn so quietly?

Then again, he couldn’t be too surprised.  Lance was rather quiet now… when he wasn’t running his mouth off trying to provoke a response from someone.

He studied Lance, noting the bags under his eyes and the glossy sheen on his eyelids when he blinked.  It was a look he knew that both himself and Allura mirrored – although unwillingly.  The few moments Keith could sleep were made difficult by the images of Lance that always plagued his dreams. 

Despite having a bed in the cell, Lance never seemed to use it.  He would stay up until he literally could not anymore, falling asleep while leaning against the particle barrier. 

Keith could relate to the not sleeping thing. 

Too many nights he’d spent waiting up for as long as he could.  Waiting for a variety of things: his father, news about his foster parents, his foster parents, Shiro, new about the Kerberos Mission, and most recently, news about Lance and Shiro. 

He could only guess as to the reasoning behind Lance’s insomnia. 

Perhaps Lance couldn’t sleep for fear of missing a ‘rescue’ attempt from the Galra?  Or maybe it was something else.  Perhaps his lack of sleep stemmed from a lack of trust, in which case, Keith could relate to that too.

Sleeping was always difficult whenever he was staying with a foster family.  Too many unknowns, too many variables, too much that Keith couldn’t trust.  Although, it hurt to think that Lance didn’t trust them, Keith didn’t know what Lance had gone through at the hands of the Galra. 

Shiro never wanted to talk about his time with the Galra, and while his experiences were probably vastly different from Lance’s… it was still indictive enough of the treatment the Galra gave. 

For all he knew, the Galra might have had the same technology as the Blade of Marmora to make hyper-realistic holograms.  If they did, then could they have used them to cause Lance to turn to their side?  What could have caused Lance to side with the Galra?  Why didn’t he trust Voltron anymore?

Keith would probably never know. 

Lance’s eyelids drooped and his whole body swayed before he was jolted back awake.  Keith could only imagine what Lance saw beneath his eyelids. 

What nightmares plagued Lance?

Nightmares or not, Lance needed sleep.  Coran said that rest was vital to recovering, and Keith sincerely doubted sleeping upright against a particle barrier could be considered _restful_.  

“Why don’t you use the bed?” Keith asked after witnessing Lance almost fall asleep for the second time in less than five minutes. 

Lance slowly blinked, staring at Keith for a full solid minute – Keith counted the seconds in his head – before he licked his lips and answered.

“Can’t.” The word came out in the lazy type of slur that could only be emulated by a person barely awake.  Where a person was literally sitting atop the fence between the waking and dream worlds, trying to decide which to topple over into. 

“How come?”  The corners of Keith’s lips turned down, his eyebrows furrowing as he asked.

There was a chance that Lance wouldn’t answer.  Sometimes people in this state of mind didn’t.  It all depended on how far they were leaning into either realm.  Were they awake enough to chose not to answer, or asleep enough that the question was completely missed on them?   

Lance shrugged, looking away with a sigh. 

“Is the bed uncomfortable?” Keith suggested, pressing just a bit more. 

He didn’t know why he was so invested in finding out why.  Maybe it was because this was one of the first conversations he’d had with Lance without any venom since Lance had been put in the cell.  Maybe it was because he was low-key hoping to find out something new. 

“You could say that, I guess.” Lance shrugged again, but at least there was a verbal response.  “Been a while since I slept alone.”

Keith wasn’t the most observant of the group, but he was enough to notice Lance’s own surprise at his words.  Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.  It was enough to jolt him firmly back into being awake.   

There was a troubling implication to his words, a hidden meaning which twisted his gut and made him feel like he’d replaced his tongue with cotton.  Irritating bubbled up inside him, quicker than he could stop it.  He pursed his lips and looked away, curling his hands into fists so tightly that his dull nails bit into his palm. 

He didn’t understand why the idea of Lance sleeping with someone was causing such a strong reaction. 

Lance’s sharp short bark of laughter drew his attention back to Lance, and with a jolt Keith realized he’d shifted closer to Keith, or well, as close as the barrier would allow him to.  He was grinning in a way that was painfully familiar.

 

“Awh, what’s wrong, Mullet?”  Lance’s eyes glimmered in the dim light of the medical bay, sparkling in a way Keith hadn’t thought he’d see again. “Jealous someone would want to sleep with me?”

“No.” Keith’s response was sharp and immediate, heat filling his cheeks.  Red perked up and let out a chuffing noise he’d come to associate with laughter.  His face burned hotter. 

It wasn’t the implication that no one would want to sleep with Keith that was flustering him so much, but the realization that he was jealous that someone else had slept with Lance.  It was irrational, and stupid, and he really shouldn’t care… but he did.

He just hoped that Lance hadn’t realized what Keith just had. 

Lance was still staring at him, giving him an unnerving sort of stare that made Keith feel like he was invisible, and Lance was just staring right through him.  His hand rose to his necklace, and it glinted as Lance played with it. 

Keith’s gaze was caught by the glint, and his frown grew more pronounced as that sinking feeling in his gut only grew at the sight of it.  He hated that stupid necklace.  It reminded him of a dog collar, like Lance was a...

A thought occurred to him, and he felt his heart stop at it. 

“It wasn’t forced, was it?” Keith asked, praying that the answer was ‘no’. The moment he spoke, he knew he’d said the wrong thing and Lance had misunderstood.

“Huh?”  Lance jumped, blinking as his hand dropped from the necklace.  “I didn’t force someone to sleep with me.” He snarled out, venom so thick dripping from his words that Keith swore he could actually see it. 

Lance barred his teeth in a distinctly Galra way, his nails sharpening to form claws.  He drew up into himself, posturing like an animal who’d been threated.  Keith could see all the work that the team had made over the past couple days disappearing before his eyes – unless he fixed this. 

“That’s not what I meant!” Keith shook his head.  “I meant for you, not them. You weren’t forced, were you?”

Lance froze, becoming so still Keith couldn’t be sure that he was still breathing.  He was too anxious to count the seconds till Lance’s response, his own heart beating so quickly and loudly in his chest it could be jack hammer. 

“Why do you care?” Lance thawed, it wasn’t much, but it was a beginning.  Keith held in his sigh of relief.   

“Is that a yes?” Keith dodged Lance’s question, asking for clarification.  He felt his stomach twist painfully when Lance looked away and started to play with that stupid necklace again.  “Lance?”

Keith stared at Lance noting the slight glaze to his eyes when he touched the necklace and the quiver of his lips.   He wanted to ask again, to prompt a response from Lance, but something told him not to.  This was something he couldn’t press, not more than he already had.  

He’d just about given up hope on Lance replying when he finally spoke; the words almost too quiet for Keith to hear.

“He loves me.”

“If he loved you, he wouldn’t have forced anything on you.” There was fire in Keith’s words, fueled by the anger and rage that Lance’s ~~confession~~ words had given him.  His fire seemed to have struck something in Lance because he burst back into life, shaking his head. 

“He didn’t!” Lance argued.  “He… I… I wanted it.” Somehow, Keith doubted that. 

Quiznak.  How the fuck had Keith been the one to stumble into this clusterfuck?  Shiro or Hunk would have been so much better for this conversation, but neither of them were around – Hunk was probably in the kitchen or sleeping and who knew where Shiro was.  

Keith was the absolute least qualified person for this conversation, but he was the only choice Lance had right now. 

Quiznak.

His fingers itched with the need to take his anger out on some training dummies, to imagine the faceless bastard who’d done this to Lance.  Who’d broken Lance down into pieces and then rebuilt him back up into this twisted mess.  Lance didn’t deserve this. 

He didn’t… and if Keith’s instincts were right, if the way Lance spoke was true… then… no, Lance hadn’t really wanted it.

“Did you? Did you really, Lance?”

“He loves me.”  Lance repeated.  “He treats me well, takes care of me.” 

“But did you want it?”  Against better judgement, Keith pressed.

“I did what I had to.” Lance snapped, a wave of purple lightning lashing out to accompany his words.  The lightning hadn’t made an appearance in days, and it bothered Keith that he’d caused its reappearance. 

“Still doesn’t sound like you wanted it.” Keith snapped back.  “Did you want it?  Do you love him?” 

Lance flinched at Keith’s questions, the bravo that had filled him failing.

“I…” Lance fell silent, looking down.  There were tears in the corners of his eyes, and if Keith thought Lance wouldn’t attack him, he would have lowered the barrier to wipe them away and give him a hug.

“If you can’t answer, then I think that’s answer enough.” He tried to be soft, really he did, but his words came out rough and angry.  

“He loves me!” Lance repeated, sounding more and more like a broken record or a doll who could only repeat one phrase.  Like that one phrase made all the difference.  It didn’t, not really.  It didn’t matter what this unknown guy’s feelings were on the matter.  What mattered was that Lance hadn’t wanted it. 

Keith’s eyes fell to the necklace and his gut twisted again. Anytime Lance seemed to start to doubt anything about the Galra, about this guy who supposedly loved Lance despite taking advantage of him, he always seemed to go for that necklace.  Keith never liked that stupid thing anyways. 

An idea formed in his mind and although he didn’t know how it was possible… if anyone would know, it’d be Lance.

“Did he?”  Keith questioned.  “Or is that just what that necklace tells you?”

Lance dropped the jewel he was playing with like it’d burned him.  Lance’s expression slid off his face until he was left carefully blank.  His breath hitched once, twice before he blinked and came back to himself. 

His hands – thankfully declawed now – went for his own throat as he scrambled to try to remove the necklace.  He pulled at it, reaching around the back to try to undo the stupidly complicated clasp there.

“I want it off.” Rolled off Lance’s lips in a steady stream, like a mantra Lance needed to hold onto lest he forget. “I want it off!”

Well, that was a request Keith could – and would – oblige.

Despite his earlier exhaustion, Keith sprung off the floor and slid over to the controls, dropping the barrier.  He blinked and suddenly he was on his knees at Lance’s side.

Some minor part of him questioned if this was some elaborate trap, but no, this felt too real and the majority of his gut instinct was telling him that he needed to help Lance.  He gently pulled Lance’s hands away and undid the clasp. 

The moment it came loose, Lance flung the necklace across the room into a wall.  He stared at it for a second before tears started to well up in his eyes.  He blinked, and one rolled down his cheek, and then another, and another until there was a waterfall. 

Keith didn’t know what to do.  Comfort was not Keith’s strength. 

All those corny family movies Shiro and Hunk liked involved wiping away the tears and then hugging someone.  So many movies wouldn’t have that if it was a bad idea.  He reached out, hesitating due to Lance’s scales and the memory of Coran doing something similar. 

Coran had asked permission, so he should as well. 

“May I?” He didn’t know why he felt the need to ask.  It just felt like it was only polite.  Lance’s gaze shifted from the necklace to Keith.  There were too many emotions swimming in his eyes for Keith to read, but Lance nodded and that was all Keith needed. 

He gently wiped the tears away.  It was surprising how smooth the scales were, but he tried not to focus on that.  Instead focusing on Lance, and how Lance needed comfort and not be to be gawked at. 

Lance took in a shuddering breath, and then the next thing Keith knew, Lance’s arms were wrapped around him, his face pressed into Keith’s shoulder. An alarm of ‘this was a trap’ sounded in Keith’s head, but it was quelled by how Lance sobbed into his shoulder, his body shaking and entirely too cold.

Red rumbled at the chill, combating it with her own warmth and heat; and it was then he realized that Blue might have had some part in all of this. 

Comfort was not Keith’s strength. 

It was as foreign for Keith to give as it was for him to receive.  Once more, he wished that either Hunk or Shiro could take his place right now.  Either of them would know what to do.  But no, Lance was stuck with Keith. 

He hesitated, unsure of how much this could really help when his first attempt had failed so spectacularly, but rested his hands on Lance’s back anyways, offering a few gentle pats.  He cleared his throat and muttered a quiet “there, there” before feeling stupid and stopping. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there with Lance, offering the most comfort he could provide.  At one point, Keith started to rock.  At another, he switched from patting Lance’s back to rubbing it.  At no point did Keith try to pull away or let go of Lance; not even when he felt wetness on his shoulder from the sheer amount of Lance’s tears. 

Finally, the tears started to slow, the sobs turning into sniffles. 

“Why does everyone suck at comforting?”  Lance’s voice was muffled into his jacket. 

Keith shrugged, unable to provide an answer that he thought Lance would accept. “Hunk might be better.” 

Lance sniffled again, shifting to rest his chin on Keith’s shoulder.  “You suck.”

“You stopped crying, didn’t you?” Keith returned.  “I don’t have to let you rest your boney chin on my shoulder.”

“Your shoulder is just as boney!” Lance shot back.  Keith shrugged, ignoring Lance’s protesting noise at the movement.  The silence would have been comfortable had they been in better positions.  Keith glanced at the bed and pursed his lips. 

What he was thinking had bad idea written all over it but… He’d been with Lance for what had to have been at least an hour with the barrier down and no harm had come to Keith yet.  What was a couple more hours?

“You need some sleep, Lance.” He half whispered.  “And my shoulder and back hurt.” 

Lance’s reaction wasn’t verbal, but instead physical.  His arms – still wrapped around Keith – stiffened, his hands curling into fists holding Keith’s jacket hostage. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”  Keith gently added.  “Let’s get to bed.”

Lance loosened his grip on Keith enough to pull away and look at him.  His face was blotchy and red from all the crying, but he met Keith’s gaze. 

“You won’t go anywhere?”

A minor part of Keith was still convinced that this was a trap, that if he fell asleep with Lance like this, then Lance was going to betray them all and murder them in their sleep before returning to the Galra.  But…

It took every ounce of his willpower not to look at the discarded necklace. 

That had to mean something.  The lack of harm had to mean something.  The way Lance was looking at him had to mean something. 

His stomach twisted again, but this time it wasn’t completely unpleasant.  Red purred reassuringly, prodding him forward with quiet reassurance.  Keith nodded, both to himself and to Lance.

“I won’t go anywhere.”


End file.
